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#hes new to being like this so he gets taken down by the animal. instead of letting him suffer through his mistake Inferno jumps in front-
spotsupstuff · 1 year
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Where do Boreas and Zephyr end up in the off the string Ancients au after getting off the string?
well, assuming that Euros and Sparrows manage to find Boreas before he fucks off on the journey to Zeph alone or Desaevio Houses manage to catch him, the three would make the journey to her together and with Sparrows bein the only one with a place to go, she'd suggest coming over to her home at least until they figure out smth better
fuckin... Euros tryin to rope the other two into the joys of baby sitting.. Boreas constantly smacks his head on doorways. Inferno gives Boreas a fucking shotgun n starts teaching him how to use it while Sparrows, very conscious of the religious importance of Iterators, is just lookin behind them like 👀💦 Inkling would get along with Zephyr WONDERFULLYYYYYY,, would try to teach her how work around the house despite her disabilities so she would Finally get to do smth else than just sit and cling on to survival. Boreas n granda glaring at each other from the other sides of a room as if one of them isn't alive strictly because of spite
they lose Brook and everybody is trying so hard to find her and at the end it turns out that she somehow managed to hide under Boreas' chlamys and has been clinging on to his back for a solid hour now. no he did not know about this
at the end of it all Sparrows family would get together and probably renovate some house from beyond the retaining walls of Euros' facilities where the Gen 1s could hide away, because ultimately Zeph n B need to stay a secret more than Euros himself. about Euros people already know! and at least he's still within his own walls. but Zeph is supposed to be a secret and B is so damnably important as a bearer of the capital city, that if they were found out the family would get into a lot of trouble
so the aged humidifiers get to have a lil dwelling in the forests nearby, seems like! <3
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thewispsings · 2 months
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dogsitter
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pairing. charles leclerc x female!reader
summary. after finding a raccoon in his penthouse, charles ropes the owner of said raccoon into being leo’s dogsitter. then, he falls in love with her.
warning. fluff, kisses, slight jealous charles? reader can’t swim, reader owns a raccoon, no use of ‘yn’ let me know if i missed anything!
─────
“No! Leo, come back! Don’t touch it!” Charles yelled out in horror from his spot behind the kitchen counter. Leo paid him no mind, barking happily at what he thinks is a new friend. His new friend in question pays him no mind, sitting on his bottom and happily munching on the banana peel, Charles had no doubt he had taken from his trashcan. 
A million thoughts were running through Charles’s head, the main one being ‘Where the actual fuck did this raccoon come from. And why is it in my house?’ “Leo, no!” he tried once more, as he saw his precious dog get closer and closer to the trash-eating raccoon. Leo was way too friendly, Charles realized at the moment. 
Charles paced back and forth, thankfully the raccoon seemed friendly, not paying much attention to Leo, but he still needed to get it out…without touching it. He didnt know much about raccoons, but the one thing he did know, was that they carried diseases, lots of them. 
Hearing a knock on his door, Charles paused his pacing, running over to the door, while simultaneously trying to keep his eyes on the trash eater. Opening the door, Charles stepped back in confusion. This was not someone he recognized. This was a woman, a pretty woman, but a stranger nonetheless.
The second the door opened the woman perked up, giving him a small smile, “Hi!” she beamed, Charles paused, so much was happening at one time, and he had no idea what to do first. Talk to the pretty woman? Save Leo from the raccoon that seemed to spawn in his house? Who was he kidding, Leo loved that raccoon, what he meant was; Save himself from the raccoon that seemed to spawn in his house? 
“Any chance you have seen the most adorable raccoon around-” She paused, staring into his apartment, “Nibbles!” she cheered, inviting herself into his apartment. Charles paused for. moment, adorable raccoon? Nibbles?
He turned into his apartment, seeing the strange woman coddling the trash eater into her arms, babying him. He stormed over to Leo, who was clawing at the strange woman’s legs, scoping him into his arms and coddling him tightly into his chest.
Charles frowned, taking a small step back, you were coddling the trash eater into your arms like he was your child, “It's yours?” he managed out, judgment dripping from his words.
You looked up at him with a frown, “Not it. She.” you were very firm, continuing to pet the raccoon with a hand, “Yes, Nibbles is mine.” you didn't give another glance as you focused your attention back to the animal.  
‘’Like…a pet?” Charles placed Leo down onto the hardwood floors, now comfortable letting him roam around while you had the trash eater in your arms. You looked up at him, mouth open, before you slowly closed it, squinting your eyes at the man, while slowly, letting the raccoon out of your arms. 
“I know you from somewhere.” You stated simply, squinting your eyes harder, and stepping closer. Charles swallowed thickly, looking around the room awkwardly, refusing eye contact. "I don't think we've met…before.” he tried, but you didn't let up. 
Instead, you pulled out your phone, putting it up to his face, “What are you doing?!” Charles swiped at the camera, stepping back. You frowned, shoving the camera closer to his face, “I’m using the Google photo thing! Stay still!” reluctantly, Charles stood frozen, staring up at the camera with a glare. 
Pulling your phone back, you held it up to your face, walking over to the couch before plopping down with a sigh. “Hm…” you pursed your lips, “Charles Leclerc…” you read off the phone, hearing Charles sit beside you with a small sigh. “Oh!” you turned to him in excitement, “You’re the Ferrari driver!” 
Charles nodded happily, opening his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, “You were the reason I couldn’t sleep that day you won here.” You glared at him, and he shrunk back, “This whole city was up partying.” you huffed, placing your phone down, before reaching down and patting the trash eater’s head. 
Leo barked happily, jumping between you and the raccoon, Charles watched you as you hesitantly reached over to pet the dog, as if scared. You owned a raccoon, but were scared of dogs? “It was a big day,” Charles replied softly, his eyes on your arms, which were petting Leo, oh so delicately. Getting flashbacks of his home win, which took place just a couple weeks ago.
You looked up at him with a smile, “Yeah, I guess so.” you looked down at Leo, who was softly biting your fingers, Nibbles was at your feet, munching on her banana peel, without a care in the world. “It’s cute,” you comment, petting Leo’s head. “He.” Charles corrected. 
“So it’s..” you turned to him sharply, he rushed to correct himself, “She, sorry, she’s your pet?” 
You smiled down at the raccoon, who now seemed to be entertaining itself with Leo, who was sniffing around it. “Yeah,” you whispered, before getting up with a small groan. Charles followed your steps, picking up Leo when you picked up Nibbles. “Well it was nice to meet you, Charles,” you called over your shoulder, as you made your way to the door, Charles right behind you, “Sorry that Nibbles snuck over. We’ll get going now.” 
Charles panicked, watching you make your way to the door, “Do you have a job?” What was he doing? 
You paused, eyeing him confused, your parents were well off, you didn’t necessarily need a job, it would be nice to have one, but it wasn't one of your top priorities “No?” 
Charles looked around the room awkwardly before his eyes landed on Leo, bingo. “Would you like one?” 
You shifted with Nibbles in your arms, eyeing him suspiciously, “Depends.” You really hope he wouldn't ask you to do something…weird, he seemed like a nice guy, and he would probably be a good neighbor. 
“You could babysit Leo for me. Or it is dogsitting?.. He's more like my child than a pet. But I travel a lot so..” his rambling faded off into the background as you glanced between Nibbles and Leo. The two seemed to get along well, and by well you mean Nibbles didn't care for the dog, and the dog seemed to love Nibbles. 
Taking care of a dog for Thee Charles Leclerc would look great on a future resume.
“...You don't have to answer right away, you could sleep on it! Or take however much time you'd like.” Charles awkwardly swayed from side to side, cradling Leo in his arms. 
You snapped your head up at him, “I’ll do it.” You declared bluntly, before turning back to the door, “I’ll come over tomorrow, and we can talk more.” were your final words before you exited.  
Charles stood staring at the door, tilting his head slightly, “She's pretty.” He talked down to Leo, who barked in agreement. “Very pretty…” 
.  .  . 
“Leo, you have to promise you'll be a good boy,” you mumbled to the wagging dog as you placed the harness on its weiner-shaped body. “Nibbles has only been on a plane once, so you have to be the big boy in this situation.” 
It has been two weeks since you started your new job, and you loved it. You loved Leo, him quickly the number two pet in your heart, and you've taken a liking to Charles as well, become more like friends than anything else, and he's started bringing you souvenirs from each of the countries he's been to, which made you swoon without a doubt. 
A whole three days into your job, fans all over the world found out about your existence, and within two hours, they found out everything you needed to know about you. Including your old embarrassing Instagram videos where you thought you were a professional dancer. Charles thought those videos were funny, you did not. Of course, you got your hate, but it was buried under all the love you and Nibbles got. The world seemed to love Nibbles. So much that the account you had made for her years ago, tripled in followers within a few hours. 
You, Nibbles, and Leo now had an established routine. When Charles was away, Leo would sleep at your penthouse, sleeping by your side, while Nibbles slept in her own tiny bed, then you three would wake up at the crack of dawn and watch the free practice, qualifying, and the race. You’ve never been a big Formula One fan, but you watched for Charles. 
When Charles was at home, you two would spend most of the nights watching movies or playing online games together. With Leo and Nibbles right by your sides. 
The two pets had gotten considerably closer, Nibbles now returning Leo's great affection. Now finding the two apart was rare. 
“And Nibbles,” you turned to the raccoon, who was laying on her back, “You need to be brave. We won't be on the plane with other people, but still,” you shrugged, “I don't want you to get the nervous poops..” you mumbles as an afterthought. 
Your phone lights up with a call from none other than Charles. You grin as you pick up, “Yellow?” yes you were that person. 
Charles giggled like he always did when picking up the phone, “Hi,” he said your name softly, “I 
just wanted to check in, everything ready?” 
“Yup!” you answered, “Leo and Nibbles are packed and ready to go!” Go where exactly? Hungary, where you (along with Leo and Nibbles) will be watching Charles’s race. He had a bad last couple of races, so when he asked to and I quote “bring the kids to Hungary” You felt too bad to say no. 
“And what about you.” he hummed, “Are you packed and ready to go?”
“I’ve been packed since yesterday.” you always hated being anything less than prepared when traveling. Although you would be traveling by private jet (courtesy of Charles) it didnt ease your nerves. Traveling with Nibbles was hard enough, and this would be your first time traveling with Leo. You hoped he was a clam flyer like Charles claimed. 
Charles laughed, “The driver should be there in about..five minutes.” 
“And they know about Nibbles right?” you couldn’t count how many times you asked taxis if they allowed pets, only for them to refuse you service when you entered with Nibbles. 
“Yes, they know about Nibbles,” Charles reassured you through the phone, he had grown quite accustomed to the trash eater, he found that Nibbles acted quite like Max, which made her even more likable to the Ferrari driver. 
Speaking of, Charles looked up from the ground to see Max walking over to him with a grin, “I have to go now, okay?” he spoke into the phone, “Call me if anything happens.” after a few seconds he hung up, pocketing his phone with a huge smile. A smile that dropped as soon as he looked up to see Max. 
Max tilted his head at the slightly shorter man, teasingly smiling, “Why don’t you ask her out already?” Max leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes at Charles’s confusion. 
“Who?” Charles questioned.
The second Max said your name, Charles started spluttering, looking around the Ferrari lounge in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?” Charles felt his cheeks heat up, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of you. 
“I mean.” Max rolled his eyes, “You obviously like her-” he squinted his eyes at the face Charles pulled, “Don’t make that face.” Charles pulled another face, “Please Charles, you talk about her all the time, always mentioning how pretty she is-” 
“She is very pretty!” 
“And you very clearly like her!” 
The two childhood friends stared at each other. Max didnt understand why Charles couldn’t just accept his feelings. He talked about you like you hung the moon and the stars. He talked about you all day, every day. At first, everyone thought it was cute, but then it started to get annoying. Not because he talked about, but because he talked about, without realizing that he was in love with you. Everyone saw it, except him. 
“I personally think you should worry about your love life.” Charles shrugged, “When was the last time you went on a date–or had a girlfriend?” 
Max gasped, he really wanted to go there? “You’re right Charles.” he turned away, “Maybe I’ll ask her out,” he paused dramatically, before starting to walk away. 
But he didnt get far, because before he knew it, Charles was in front of him stopping him from moving, all traces of amusement gone. “Don’t.” he glared. 
Max faltered, sighing, “Admit you like her.” 
Charles frowned, this was not how he wanted to come to terms with his feelings, “I might, possibly? like her.” he pursed his lips, Max took a good look at him before patting him on the shoulder, sympathy written across his face. “Tell her, take her on a date. Before someone else does..” and with that he walked off. 
Charles wiped his hands across his face, sitting down on the red velvet chair with a sigh, Max’s words echoing through his head. Before someone else does. The thought alone of you going on a date with another person made him sick to his stomach. He groaned, clutching his head, images of you kissing someone else involuntary flashed through his hand. 
This was not how it was supposed to go. You and Charles were supposed to be friends, boss, and employee who just happened to get along very well. Thats it. 
But then you, and your stupid fucking smile. Your stupid fucking laugh. Your stupid fucking face. And your stupid fucking raccoon that Charles was now definitely attached to. He had to ask you out. He wanted to ask you out. But he didnt want to ruin what you already had. You quickly become one of his closest friends. He told you things he wouldn’t even tell his brothers. And he didnt want that to end. 
But it didnt seem like he had a choice anymore. He could either lose you because he was a coward who never confessed his feelings, so you fell in love with someone else, or he could lose you because he did confess his liking towards you, and you didn’t reciprocate that liking. 
He just hoped if you didnt like him and decided to quit out of awkwardness, you would still let him see Nibbles. 
.  .  . 
Charles had gotten fourth, nowhere close as he wanted to be, but it was an improvement.  He was full of nerves as he walked up into Ferrair’s hospitality. He couldn’t see you that morning before he left as it was early in the morning and he didnt want to wake you up. 
Waling into the large room, Charles instantly spotted you, sitting on the ground, laughing at Leo who was rolling around in a knitting blanket, one Charles didn’t recognize. 
Looking up, you made eye contact with Charles, with a smile you ran over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug, “That race was so…” you struggled, burying your head into his shoulder. 
He pulled back with a smile, taking a good look at your pretty face, “Interesting?” he helped, tilting his head. 
You nodded vigorously, “Let’s go with that! But you did so good!” 
Charles smiled bashfully walking over to Nibbles, who was lying on her back without a care in the world. He pulled up the unfamiliar blanket laughing loudly at the design. It seemed to be handmade, knitted. It was beautiful, designed to have Leo and Nibbles hugging on the front. 
“It’s so cool, right?” You bounced over to him, “A fan gave it to me this morning, i offered her some money because that looks like it took so much time to make, but she kept saying no-” 
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” 
Silence. 
Charles looked up with his bright red cheeks, you stood frozen, mouth open, staring at him with soulless eyes. Shit, you were going to say no. 
Oh god, you were going to say no. You’re going to quit your job and Charles is never going to see you or Nibbles ever again. Oh my god, he’s never going to see Nibbles again. 
“Can I bring Nibbles with me?” 
That–That was not what Charles was expecting. He blinked, 
“Only if I can take Leo.”
.  .  .
“I’m scared Leo.” Charles stared down at Leo, who didnt give him so much as a glance before we walked over to the edge of the boat. “You’re no help,” Charles called after him, shaking his head. 
The boat looked beautiful if Charles did say so himself, it had flower petals scattered around, fairy lights shining, and in the middle was a small fort of blankets and pillows. 
Hearing footsteps coming towards him, Charles sent a small prayer to whoever was listening, before turning and waiting for you to walk up. 
Hopping on the boat, you slowly walked over to the open area, holding Nibbles tightly. You spotted Charles frozen in the middle, you took in everything around, it was beautiful. 
At the sight of Leo, Nibbles started squirming in her arms, wanting to be put down. You granted her, her request, slowly placing her down onto the ground. She instantly crawled over to Leo.
You and Charles stared at each other silently, slowly taking each other in. “You..” Charles started, “You look beautiful.” he took your hand, leading you over to the fort of blankets. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, taking a seat on the pillows. It was beautiful out, the sun was on the verge of setting, and it was a surprisingly quiet day out in the city, so instead of the bustling you would usually hear, it was the soft rustling of the waves.
“We’re not going out in the water are we?” you turned to him with wide eyes, “Because I don’t exactly know how to swim.” 
Charles snapped his head towards you with a mixture of disbelief and offense, “You… can’t swim?”
“Not exactly.” 
“You’re twenty-four,” Charles stated, his eyes squinted. 
“Your point?” you bite into a strawberry he so gracefully handed to you. 
“You’re twenty-four and can’t swim,” he stated once more, handing a strawberry to Nibbles, who had wobbled her way over to you two after she saw you eating food. 
“My dad’s like ancient and he can’t swim.” you tried to defend yourself. 
“So it runs in the family?” Charles giggled, rubbing Nibble’s stomach, as she lay on her back. 
You watched them with a smile, it was clear Charles had gotten accustomed to Nibbles, the same way you had with Leo, who had crawled into your lap with a small sigh. 
“On the next date, I’ll teach you to swim,” he told you, now cradling Nibbles in his arms. 
“Next date?” you teased, raising a brow. He instantly became flustered, stuttering over his words. “I mean–if you want? I want. I really want to, but if you don’t want to then that’s okay too! You don’t have-” 
“I want to.” you laughed, reassuring him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. He froze, his eyes bulging at the sight of your hand on his knee. God, what were you doing to him? A simple hand was on the knee and he was turning bright red. 
Awkwardly you slowly started to remove your hand, mistaking his silence for dislike. Quickly, his hand darted out, softly grabbing yours before placing it back on his knee. 
Comfortable silence took over, both cheekily and secretly smiling to yourselves. 
.  .  .
“Thank you for the date tonight.” Charles stood in front of you, while you had your back to your apartment door. It was now late at night, and after hours of talking, you both were ready for some much-needed rest. You two had just dropped off Leo in Charles’s apartment, and you had just let Nibbles into yours. 
“I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that.” you giggled, leaning against the wall with a tired smile. 
Charles shrugged, clearly staring down at your lips, “Well I really enjoyed it, so.” 
You two stood silently, tension so thick, you could cut through it with a knife. You wanted Charles to kiss you, god, that was what you’ve been wanting all night. But you knew he wasn’t going to until you told him. 
Still, you gave him a chance to make the first move, so you both stood there in silence for three minutes, blatantly staring at each other in silence. One more minute and you were sure you were going to fall asleep. So you pushed your pride aside, “You can kiss me-” 
And in less than a second, his lips were on yours. His lips were warm and soft, just like you imagined. You melted into the kiss, it was certainly the best you’ve ever had. 
He pulled away too quickly for your liking, “Can I sleep over?” he mumbled with a smile, you giggled nodding your head, before you opened your door, gesturing inside. 
He eagerly started to make his way inside, only to pause in the doorway, looking up at you in horror, “I have to go get Leo!” he yelled as he ran into the hallway, “You and Nibbles wait for me!” he yelled back as he got further in further away.
You laughed loudly as you watched him go.
Yeah, you totally picked the right guy. 
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notes: can you guys tell i have no idea what happens on a date… anyways! this is a whole 3.5k and that’s the most i’ve ever written so hooray!! this is been in my drafts for soooo long and i’m so happy i finally finished it
thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
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ririblogsss · 6 months
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Danny the park crazy guy
Ok this follows Danny with him deciding he needs to get out of Amity Park cause he's parents are getting more and more obsessed with catching Phantom. And the plans he'd over heard were sending him into panic attacks. Not only that a new management was placed for the GIW, and with that they had become more brutal and accurate with their capturing. Danny couldn't make sure ghosts were safe and protect civilians, so Danny made a deal with Technus in exchange for most of the tech Danny has made in the past 6 months Technus has to hack into the portals that his parents and Vlad owned and permanently destroy them. Technus also made sure to wipe all the information on how to re-build the portal and planted a bug that will corrupt any file trying to mimic the portals code/mechanics. 
At first Dannys plan was to play the part of the defenseless boy who just witnessed his parents whole life work go down the drain, and pretend that ghost never happened. He's parents were sad (understatement of the century) but they soon found something to hyper focus on, before becoming ecto-biologist, they were trying to find ways to make liquid that would dissolve plastic in a non-lethal and non-toxic way. So after 2 months of not doing anything and only staying in bed eating ice-cream and fudge its like a light bulb turned on onto of their heads, and Madeline and Jack went back to their old selves. They still had moments were they would gaze back at their projects with heartbroken eyes, and Danny could help but blame himself for his parents suffering. 
Its like one day everything was close to normality (as normal as amity park could be) people weren't mentioning ghost in fear that one would appear out of spite. Classes went uninterrupted people were actually happy for that. 
But then the GIW started making moves, as they were getting more and more restless with no ghost sightings in the last 6 months. 
Then 3 months ago everything went to shit......
Danny could only explain it as if the Salem witch trials had started. But instead it was the 21st century and people were being accused of being / cooperating / aiding ghosts. The GIW had stormed into the town hall and had claimed that Amity park was in full quarantine. No one in no one out. Vlad was taken in for 'investigation' accused of working with the ghost because he never helped the GIW or offered funds, hence committing treason the US government. 
After that People would be taken out of their homes and obligated to take tests to prove they weren't with the enemy, if they passed they went back to their homes traumatized. if they failed.... Well no one really knows, but one might guess from all the screaming. 
Ironically. Dannys parents were the fist accused of cooperating with the enemy. The GIW stated that they seemed suspicious from the start as they never truly caught anything. he hadn't seen them since they were drugged and stuffed into the back of a van. Danny was thankful that Jazz (for collage) and Dani (traveling in Bangladesh) were out of Amity, but it wasn't like he could contact them and tell them what was happening. 
The GIW had cut all contact to the rest of the word from Amity Park probably because what they were doing was considered illegal and definitely were crossing human rights. 
Luckily Sams and Tuckers family were able to come to an agreement with the GIW so they could be exempted from the quarentine (buy themselves a way out). Unluckily Danny like most families didn't have those types of resources. 
But Danny isn't a Fenton for nothing, craziness, gull and genius ran through his veins. So every morning when they were obligated out of their homes and made to sit on the grass of the park square while the agents searched for any 'evidence' in their homes. Danny would use his core to emit a frequency that only other ghost and some metas could hear. But that wasn't what Danny was communicating to no. 
He was sending commands to all the animals he had befriended the last 15 years of his life. You see ever since Danny was a kid he loved how one could be able to domesticate any animal as long as you had food. So Danny when he was a kid applied The Operant conditioning to all the animals he crossed paths with. 
A few weeks after his accident (death) when Danny was making his daily feeding times for the animals in exchange for trinkets and money he realized something. He could understand what the animals 'spoke' and the animals could understand him through the vibrations of his core. When he asked CW about it he only told him that ghost speak allowed him to communicate with anything and anyone if he had a close enough relationship towards them. 
Basically this meant that Danny had hundreds if not thousands of animals (rats, street dogs and cats, pigeons, squirrels ect.. ) at his disposal. The only reason he never used them when fighting Ghosts was obvious he wasn't going to risk the life of his friends. 
And right now his friends were making underground escape routes for all of the Amity Parkers. The plan was already being set in motion. Everyone knew their part. 
One group would be distraction, a group of kids would scream and point in the opposite direction of the escape route and say they had seen a ghost and it was trying to hurt them. The GIW would be guided into a wooded area were they would be attacked by the more predatorial animals. Making them call for back up. 
One group would composed of the most athletic adults / young adults would go into the main base of the GIW (check for survivors and help them get out). 
Another group (the elderly) was in charge of checking that everyone was accounted for. 
Mothers, would be evacuated first with their children, they would be the get away drivers. Different drivers would take different routs. Some left the country other the continent itself. Some when to larger cities for hiding amongst the crowd. But the main goal was stick to your family and preferably if you can go alone. The less people the less likely you are to getting caught. 
And the teenagers from casper high, would ensure all their traces were lost making sure all phones and gadgets were left behind, as to avoid getting tracked down. 
And that's how Amity Park became a dead town (pun intended) in less than 60 minutes. 
This leads us to the present. 
It had been 7 months since Danny had left Amity park. he hadn't seen anyone or contacted anyone from there since. The over all consensus was that everyone had to go no contact with one another as to not raise awareness as to why so many people from different places were constantly calling one another. Danny was certain that Jazz and Dani had been contacted by Sam and Tucker about the situation in Amity. What he wasn't sure of is if they knew he was out of Amity or even alive for that matter. 
Danny was not dealing with what happened well. One of the guys who went into the Town Hall pulled him a aside for a second when they were evacuating to tell him. That he had seen both his parents bodies. They had not survived. Not many who were taken against their will into the Hall came out spared. 
Danny was devastated with his parent untimely death, he only hoped they had a humane one. 
So no Danny was not ok. he knew Jazz would criticize his copping methods. But if taking over a park in the middle of a crime riddled city was sooooo bad then why did he have the support of the Bats. (not the vigilantes the actual cave bats). 
Danny had gotten to Gotham not too long ago (about 4 1/2) months, and decided that the GIW wouldn't dare on their life go into a city were the 'wolds greatest detective and most feared man live'. Danny made an abandoned building overlooking the park his own. he quickly became allies with the fauna there and soon his rein over the part began. 
---
It started slowly, honest to god not a single local though anything of the bony kid laughing his ass off as he oversaw birds and other critters alike help him build what looked like a greenhouse. They did what any Gothamite would do mind their own damn business and go on with their day. 
It wasn't unlit the trees and torn plants started to build a wall like structure around the park that they started to think that the kid was going to be the next Poison Ivy. Worst of all they some have speculated seeing Pamela and Harley go in and out of the park... both smiling like proud parents. Some say that the kid was an ex Wayne kid that was sent into an asylum, and was kept quiet. Some speculate that the kids a meta that controls all animals. Some state they saw the kid talk to the animals and the animals actually listened and did word for word what he asked. 
But Gothamites weren't that worried if they were honest. The kid (Danny as he was now known) brought more entertainment (of the good kind) to Gotham he fit right in. The only thing that made him stand out was his mid-western accent. When asked where he was from he would only stare at you while an animal (different every time mostly racoons) would chase you away. Other than that the kid was a sweetheart he would often bring the veggies and fruits he cultivates in the park to homeless shelters so that the residents would have a 'more nutritious and full diet'. 
The kid would send animals to keep watch on kids and be alerted if any were at risk he would drop in and help in a very unusual way. And he always traded money for little things and bottle caps anything handmade (especially by kids) was infinitely rewarded with money and an automatic meal. 
Danny was known as the Gotham parks crazy. But he was their crazy and no government (illegal) agency of a brigade of bats and birds was going to take him away from them. 
(waaa this was way longer that expected I only wanted to write a sentence of local crazy Danny, and I just ended up writting mostly art other stuff)
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portgasdwrld · 1 year
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📂 Op men + them being jealous
part 1
Featuring: Monster trio (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)
Warning: fluffy fluff, ended up being the monster trio being subtly jealous lol Ik I was going to make it suggestive but I like it better that way, might change it for the others
Note : After 200 weeks, 1500 minutes and 25 years, I’m finally posting this serie after thousands of drafts 👩🏻‍💻 y’all don’t know how many times I wrote and erased stuff 😭
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Luffy
The crew just landed on a new island, it was a huge forest, not a person in sight. You weren’t particularly a big fan of walking around in an unknown deserted place, especially in the New World where you never knew on what or who you could fall.
On the other side, Luffy was absolutely fearless and enjoyed the thrill of exploring the unknown and seeing unusual creatures; Sailing was all about that for him. An adventure wasn’t an adventure if he didn’t feel that rush of adrenaline faced to a strange situation. He had insisted you come with the exploring team while you pleaded to stay behind with Robin and Usopp.
But here you were walking glued to Sanji as your boyfriend lead the way somewhere in this lost territory filled with trees and the noises of wild animals. He was screaming in excitement when he came across weird insects or odd looking vegetables. You sighed heavily as the anxiety was still heavily present in your system.
The cook adjusted his pace to match yours sensing your uneasiness about the situation. He knew you only came for Luffy, so he made sure to help you feel more comfortable in his own way.
Luffy ran forward as he noticed a beautiful blue flower tinted with yellow strokes that looked like gentle waves. He took it and searched for you with his eyes.
-This would look so pretty on your hair!
He exclaimed as he walked over to you and Sanji while waving the flower in his tan hand. You smiled as you thought it was adorable, but Luffy’s eyes quickly glared at your arms wrapped around Sanjis. He didn’t say anything and simply fixed the flower behind your ear, complimenting you with loving eyes and his cute grin.
-You look perfect!
He announced as he put his arm around your neck, naturally removing you from Sanji. A giggle left your lips as you melt into his familiar warmth. His eyes looked down at you with so much love and care, he wouldn’t want nothing to happen to you. Sanji laughed as he noticed Luffy successful attempt to get you away from him.
Your boyfriend closed the distance between his face and yours. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and serious eyes, he wondered if you were fine.
-Yeah, I just feel uneasy about walking here if I’m being truly honest. I’m not a fearless warrior like you, let’s say~
You explained calmly as you stared back into his big brown eyes. His expression softened up and he moved his arm to be able to grab your hand instead.
-Alright, then stay close to me only. I’m the strongest, so I will protect you no matter what! I promise!
-You’re sweet, thank you Luffy.
He gave a squeeze to your hand as you two followed the group through the millions of trees. Luffy smiled to himself, knowing you were relying on him to protect you now~
Zoro
It was all going well, a great night where Zoro was simply enjoying his time drinking with the others. It was all going great until he noticed a man that kept staring at you. You didn’t notice as you were busy goofing around with Usopp, enjoying a fun conversation.
Zoro felt this feeling of frustration grow in him the more he glared at the person shamelessly eyeing you like he clearly couldn’t see you were taken. That’s when it snapped for him: maybe they couldn’t tell? And that angered him even more. How can this person stare at you like a candy while he was sitting just next to you.
The swordsman pulled you closer to him, making sure his arm around your waist is noticeable. He smirked relieved when he saw the man look away with an annoyed huff. He took a sip from his beer as his smile got bigger. Zoro took that opportunity to slip a quick peck on your jawline.
You stared at him weirdly, wondering what have gotten into him.
-Wassup with you?
-I cant kiss you or what?
-Yeah, but you don’t usually do that.
-You always complain
He whined as he rolled his eye, but still he was glad that no one was hungrily looking your way anymore. You were his and he would make the possible to make it known. Even if it needed him to be outside of his comfort zone, he was going to make sure you were safe from lingering unwanted eyes (maybe to also make himself feel better)
You gave him a funny look, confused about his unusual bright expression. You pecked his lips not giving too much thoughts about it, before going back to your conversation with Usopp. You leant your body on your boyfriends that surprisingly responded to it by holding your waist tighter and rubbing his thumb against your tummy.
-You’re really acting strange, but I ain’t complaining
You said under your breath so only he could hear. He chuckled as he drank some more. You looked over your shoulder with a smile.
-Great, because you’re not leaving my side tonight.
Sanji
Hand in hand, you two walked through the village in the middle of all the varieties of shops surrounding y’all. You wanted to buy a necklace so you were hopeful to find something of your taste and Sanji was more than willing to help you.
He had already made his grocery shopping with you yesterday and organized everything late in the evening, so it was his rest day. He wanted to enjoy the sunny weather with his awesome lover on this pretty day.
It all started when the seller was proposing you multiple options at the table and he invited you to come in the store for something more refined for a beautiful person like you. Sanji didn't care, because of course you are beautiful, so it was only natural that other people would notice. He nodded excited to see what other options the man had that could fit you even better.
Sanji cocked an eyebrow when the seller pushed your hair behind your shoulders and got close to your face as he commented about you smelling good. You laughed as you thanked him, mentioning how your boyfriend bought the scent for you as you pointed at the cook. He put a gorgeous silver piece around your neck and handed you a mirror.
-What do we think?
He asked with a content expression, you stared at the mirror with a floating smile as you nodded, approving the jewelry.
-It's so gorgeous! Oh! What about this one?
You asked as your eyes flew to a more elegant necklace. You walked away from Sanji quickly as you engaged in a great conversation with the seller about the jewelries and some specific information, that your lover was honestly unfamiliar with. Sanji felt like you kind of forgot about him and started to wander around the store on his own as he kept an eye on you, still.
"...should I get into jewelries.."
It was those type of thoughts that occupied his mind as he sulked in his corner. Though, Sanji is a gentleman and he loved more than anything to see you happy and passionate, so he put his jealousy aside to let you enjoy your moment. So, he put his ego aside and started to think about which one would look hotter on you-
-Chérie, have you find something you liked?
He asked you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You hummed as you looked at the other man and you both nodded, agreeing on something the cook had no clue about.
-I'm going to take this one, what do you think babe?
Sanji kissed your cheeks and whispered in your ears with a smirk.
-They all look beautiful to me, because you are stunning. I don't think I will be of a great help, my love.
You smiled to yourself, because Sanji likes whatever you wear or not. On his end, he just wanted to leave already and pamper you with kisses & hickeys all over your neck to celebrate your new necklace and maybe to let people know you were his..
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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 5 months
Text
IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! I said fuck it and did all three. <3 pairing: CHUBBY! Aegon ii Targaryen x WIFE! Reader prompt: After noticing Aegon sneaking out of your chambers at night, you fear he had taken up hold habits. Only they weren't the one's that you were expecting. word count: 1, 000+ words
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For a fortnight now it has been going on. You knew this for a fact, you keep count in your head. It was like a schedule or routine of sorts. You’d wake up, reach out for Aegon’s side of the bed, only for it to be empty and cold. At first you had assumed that he had gone to the bathroom or outside onto the balcony for some fresh air. It was the most logical explanation. 
Sometimes he was restless at night. Years of having a horrid sleep schedule, overindulging in wine that made him sick, and all of the secret trips to Flea Bottom in the cover of darkness made it hard for him to sleep. No matter how many times you two had tried to get him on a proper sleep schedule. It just never seemed to work. So this started to make you weary.
He hadn’t gone to brothels or Flea Bottom in two months now. He still drank Arbor red, but not as much as he used to before your marriage. He was getting better. Truly, and you adored how much he was willing to go just to show his devotion to you. But, there was a tiny voice. Just the smallest one in the back of your head that sounded a lot like the gossip in Court.
“You’re not enough. He’s finally lost that ‘Honeymoon High’ for you. He’s gone back to them, to the whores in Flea Bottom. To the taverns and bottles of strongwine.” It whispered.
But, tonight. Tonight, you were going to figure it out. Even if it leads to an answer that you did not like. Why was your husband leaving your bed at night? Where was he going? What was he doing?
And could you get Aemond’s help in getting rid of Aegon’s body should it come down to it?
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Narrowing your eyes softly as Aegon walks down the corridor, the paranoid voice in the back of your head whispers into your ear, telling you he was going to see some mistress. He did not change nor look like he was leaving the Red Keep, still dressed in his night clothes and barefoot. So why else was he leaving your chambers? Clearly there was something or someone more important than you. This was not a mix of jealousy! Not in the slightest! No. No. Well, maybe a little. 
Waiting until he was far enough away, you slowly tip-toed after him, a thin robe wrapped around you to hide your chemise. You would get answers. One way or another. Furrowing your brows in confusion as he turns left to the where the kitchen’s are, you follow, confused. Okay, mayhaps you were being a tad dramatic. But, still, why was he going to the kitchens?
“Mayhaps he is visiting that pretty new servant girl, the one from the Reach. With her pretty golden hair and disgustingly pretty face that looked like one from a painting.” The voice in your head whispers.
Walking down the steps to the kitchen, you stop at the doorway, instantly flushing a bright pink as embarrassment fills you. Instead of finding Aegon embracing some girl. He was embracing a pastry and chalice of wine. Letting out a soft laugh of disbelief, you wish the ground would swallow you whole and never spit you out. 
He wasn’t cheating. He was gorging on food and wine. You truly were a fool to let stupid courtly gossip influence your mind. Hearing the sound of your shocked laughter, Aegon turns to look at you, eyes wide and full of horror. Shaking your head softly, his cheeks were stuffed full with the pastry he had just inhaled like air, the sugary custard smeared on his lips. 
“It is not what it looks like.” He blurts out, looking like a spooked animal. 
“Oh?” You raise a brow, “So, you're gorging yourself on sweets, right now? This is all a dream of mine?”
He pauses for a good second, almost as if he was contemplating on what to say next.
“Yes..?” He asks, unsure.
“I…I do not know whether to scold you, laugh at the ridiculousness of this, or go back to bed.” You breathe out, pinching the tip of your nose. 
“Can I get a kiss if you are going back to bed?” He asks, innocently. 
Oh, sweet seven hells. He was the most lovable and irritating man you had ever met. 
Struggling to hold any grudge against him for his sneaking around, you walk over to him, shaking your head with a chuckle of disbelief and amusement. The both of you probably looked like fools. You all disheveled and dressed only in a chemise and robe. Him, chubby cheeks smeared with custard, dressed in a tunic and loose pants. It was all so stupid. 
“I love you..?” He mumbles unsure. 
“I love you too, Aegon. I..I just..” You let out a chuckle of disbelief. 
“What? Tis’ not anything bad, just eating a few sweets.” He argues innocently. 
“For a fortnight now, you’ve snuck out of our bed, making my mind spiral to the worse.” You point to the plate in front of him, “For this?”
“Yes.” He nods, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand. 
Standing in front of him with a soft smile, you tenderly clean the last of the custard on the corner of his lips with your thumb. A tab bit grateful that it was only just his sweet tooth that had kept leading him away from your bed than some other woman. You didn’t know what you would do if it had been that. Staring back at you with a confused look on his face, he doesn’t pull back from the affection, leaning into your touch. A mix of confusion and a lovesick glimmer in his eyes. 
“What? Did I truly worry you?” He asks, “Tis’ just sweets.”
“A bit. But, the way you snuck out. Tis’ just, well, you..” You stop yourself, not daring to mention his past out loud. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. That was a bad idea. Why did you have to say that?
“I know what you're referring to. I..I have just found myself trading in old habits for something more..” He rambles on, “Pleasant.”
“I rather you tell me of this, than keep it a secret.”
“I did not wish to wake you.” He whispers, “Tis’ shameful to have awakened you and tell you that I wish to eat at such an hour.”
Stroking his chin with your thumb, you pull away from him for a moment, turning to the plate of sugary tarts and custard fill rolls. Hearing him grumble as you pull away, you playfully bump your hip against your own, cracking a smile at him. Sitting down on one of the counters, he scoots closer to you, his chubby body practically engulfing you as soon as you are in arm’s reach. 
“Now, what have you been eating, hm? Tell me all of it.” You tease, picking up a tart from the plate.
----
@lovelykhaleesiii
@fragileheartbeats
@danytar
@nightvers
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jazzyoranges · 4 months
Note
Sam carpenter x reader with the song birds of a feather by Billie eilish maybe friends to lovers
Birds of a Feather
Sam Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: you and Sam are best friends. until you aren’t
Words: 8k
A/n: ok we kinda went off script with this one but i’d describe this as friends to lovers with a few bumps. is friends to not friends to lovers a trope?
A/n 2: i have something to confess. i’ve never seen scream 5. that might be very evident in this
Warnings: intoxication, usage of drugs, Richie Kirsch, Sam deals with some hard shit, crying, ghostface aftermath, not a warning but Tara is a cutie, mention of a dead parent, maybe ooc sam cause i’ve never written for her and probably should’ve made a less lengthy fic so i could get a feel for her character but wtv 🤷‍♀️
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“Hey- What the heck! What was that for, Sam!?” The young boy yells when Sam pushes him off the swing
“You jerk broke my friend’s crayons. She really liked them!” Sam points a finger at the boy, who’s now dusting himself off
“Yeah? What’re you going to do about it?” He smiles a wicked grin. At least, what would be considered wicked in kindergarten
“I’ll never let you on the swings again!”
“I don’t see your name written on it!”
“That’s cause you’re stupid and can’t read!”
Tears well up in the young boys eyes. He blinks them away, running to tell on the teacher him and Sam share. Sam didn’t care, he deserved the insults anyways
“Sammy? What did you do to Carlos?” You run up to Sam, who’s glaring at the back of Carlos’ head from her seat on the swing
“I pushed him. He broke the crayons your dad gave you!” The Carpenter pulls you into a hug, not wanting to let go
“I know he did Sammy, but it’s not nice to push people” You reciprocate the hug, pulling back a bit to see Sam’s face and how her forehead was wrinkled with her eyebrows furrowed. You thought she was cute like one of your stuffed animals
“It’s not nice to break something that doesn’t belong to you! I did it because he was mean to you”
“You’re going to get in trouble! Mrs. Poppy doesn’t know you were trying to protect me”
“Then I’ll tell her, and Carlos will get in trouble too”
“Samantha Carpenter.” Your teacher’s voice was stern. Nothing like the sweet teacher you were used to. You backed away from Sam’s hug but you don’t go far. You hold her tiny hand with your own and make sure to stay close, rubbing her hand in hopes of comfort
“Is it true you pushed Carlos off the swings and said some mean things?”
“Yeah, but he was being mean to (Y/n) first! He broke her new crayons her dad got her! Mrs. Poppy, (Y/n) was really sad” Your dad couldn’t get you many new things due to being a single father. Especially new school supplies. Usually you’d reuse the crayons you didn’t lose or break from previous years or borrow some of Sam’s
On most days you took the bus home with Sam while your dad was off working his ass off to get you dinner every night. Your dad and Sam’s dad were good friends so Mr and Mrs. Carpenter didn’t mind taking care of you until your dad was able to pick you up from their house. Luckily you two lived in the same neighborhood. Some days you thought all of the stars aligned for you and Sam to be friends
“Is this true?” Your teacher shoots a look at the boy next to her. While your teacher was the nicest woman you ever met, she had a deadly glare. You were happy you weren’t on the receiving end of that stare
“N-No…”
“Carlos if I find out you’re lying, you’re going to be sharing the same punishment as Sam.” Mrs. Poppy seems to calm down a bit, entering her nice teacher mode once again
“F-Fine! I did break her crayons” Carlos pouts, crossing his arms
“Thank you for telling the truth, but what you did was wrong. You also did something wrong, Sam. Instead of pushing Carlos off the swing, you could’ve told me and I would have taken care of it” Your teacher bends down to look at the two kids in the eyes
“Sorry, Mrs. Poppy” Sam and Carlos say in unison
“Thank you, you two. I know you two are good kids and know what’s right”
Your teacher leaves with Carlos next to her and you can hear her faintly ask why the boy broke your crayons in the first place
“I like having you as a friend, Sammy” You hug the girl, who’s long since stopped swinging
“I like having you as a friend too, (Y/n)!” Sam beams. Her smile was one of your favorite things ever
“Can we play house?”
“Yeah! I’ll bring my bear next time so she can be our baby!”
//-//
“I can’t believe you can name your sister!” You were over at Sam’s house a few months after her baby sister was born. You didn’t know what to call Sam’s little sister considering… she didn’t really have a name. It was up to Sam to pick a name but of course she was a Carpenter, wanting the best name for her sister. As a result, her baby sister had no name
Until today, that is. Sam was finally making a decision today
“I don’t know what her name is going to be yet” Sam reaches out a finger to her baby sister who happily grabs onto it with curiosity
“She likes you a lot, huh?”
“She knows I’m her sister”
“Maybe I could help you come up with a name! What’s your favorite letter?”
“I like the first letter of your name but I don’t want it to be that! I need to think of something different”
“I know you’ll think of a wonderful name, darling.” Sam’s mom strokes her on the head as she rocks the small baby in her arms
“Do you have another favorite letter?” You ask
“Uh… I like T?”
“What about Triceratops!” You giggle
“Her name can’t be Triceratops, silly!” Sam smiles
“Tennis?”
“(Y/n), those aren’t names” The now older Carpenter giggles along with you
“What about Taylor? Oh! There’s a girl in our class named Thalia?”
“I want it to be different, though! I like those names but Tara needs to be special.” Sam’s eyes go wide in surprise. Maybe her brain just knew her baby sister was supposed to be named Tara
“Tara?” You repeat. “That’s a pretty name! Hi little Tara!” You wave at the baby in her mom’s arms
“Is this official? Is Tara your choice, Sam?”
“Yeah! Tara is a nice name. She looks like her name would be Tara”
“She does, doesn’t she? Such a pretty name you chose, Sam. Honey, come here! We have our daughter’s name!” Mrs. Carpenter yells for her husband
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sam smile so wide before
//-//
“Hey, Sam?”
“What’s up?”
“Aren’t you scared of middle school?“
“No, why would I be? Middle school should be scared of me” That was your Sam alright. The most fearless person you knew. As far as you knew, she was scared of absolutely nothing. Not even the dark. Which is why you were reluctant to stay outside on your trampoline after sunset. Which is also why you were curled next to Sam as she pointed out all the different stars
“What if we stop being friends?”
“Don’t be stupid, (Y/n)” The Carpenter pinches your cheek and you yelp while giggling, shoving her hand away
“If we stop being friends, which we won’t, I promise I’ll let you have all of my stuffed animals”
“Woah, really?”
“Yes, really
“Every single one of them?”
“Yes, every single one of them” Sam rolls her eyes
“Even Ghostie?” Ghostie was the panda stuffed animal you got Sam for her eighth birthday. Technically your dad bought it for her but you picked it out
“What! You’re not supposed to take a gift back, I like Ghostie”
“Well, you can give me all of your stuffed animals and I’ll just give Ghostie back to you”
“That makes no sense, why wouldn’t you just let me keep it?”
“Cause then you wouldn’t have given me all of your stuffed animals and kept your promise”
“You’re weird, (Y/n)”
“Hey, so are you! That’s why we’re friends”
“Yeah, I guess so” Sam giggles
The sliding door to your house opens and both you and Sam turn to look who’s there. It’s your dad
“Hey, girls! Sam, your parents are leaving now. Best you go with them, eh?”
“Okay! Thank you, Mr. (Y/l/n)” The Carpenter waves to your dad
“Wait, let me go with you inside! It’s scary out here”
//-//
“Sam! What if we get caught out here?” Your words held concern but you couldn’t stop laughing as Sam dragged you under the bleachers
“Shhh! They’re gonna catch us!” The Carpenter put a hand over your mouth and put one over hers so she’d also stop laughing when both of you sat down on the underside of the bleachers where the grass was
Both you and Sam were currently in seventh grade but there was an eighth grade couple that was constantly terrorizing the younger kids. Sam being Sam, she wanted to end their reign.
How did she want to end their reign? By breaking the two up. Sam slipped a note in both of their lockers about meeting to break up during one of their classes, causing both of them to skip. Your job was to lead a teacher to their meetup and if everything went right, then they would be successfully broken up and in detention.
Both of you hear footsteps and see the couple at the meetup spot. The teacher wasn’t far away, all you had to do was rile him up a little and run away. Did you feel a little bad? Maybe. But in your defense the couple was always making out in the hallways and made everyone passing by uncomfortable. For gods sake, it was middle school! Not high school
You and Sam were far enough away you couldn’t hear them but their body language was enough for the both of you to understand. Your plan was going perfectly. You and Sam were more the vigilante type, not the heroes or the villains
The couple exchanged pointed looks and flailing arms, hopefully arguing about the note. You and Sam wrote… not the nicest things in there
The teacher eventually arrives out of breath but the couple is too busy yelling each other to notice how he’s standing over them. He looks to clear his throat and to their horror, they stop fighting. Success!
“Yes! We did it!” Sam says a little too loudly from the position you two were in. Their heads turn in your direction and you know you’re caught when the teacher stars walking towards you two
“Hey! What’re you two doing there under the bleachers?” His ragged voice yells
Shit.
//-//
“Sam? What’s wrong?” You run to the Carpenter, who’s outside under a tree eating her lunch. Usually she’d wait for you but today seemed different
“Get away from me, (Y/n).”
“Sam, don’t be like that. You know me, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You and Sam didn’t share too many classes in eighth grade. Even then, your friendship still didn’t seem to falter. You’d still hang out after school and help each other study. Sam lashing out at you was never really a problem you two had
“No! You don’t know anything.” Sam shoves you away when you try to put your hand on her shoulder. “You’re useless.”
“Sam, you don’t mean that. Please just tell me what’s wrong?”
“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t understand anything.”
“Yes I do! We always talk to each other, Sammy. Even if I’m not going to understand, I can still listen”
“Don’t say that stupid name.”
“I thought you liked Sammy?”
“See, that’s the thing with you! You’re always so stuck in the past. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“You’re not being very nice right now”
“Yeah? Well you can deal with it.” The last thing you expect Sam to do is push you onto the ground into a patch of dirt.
“We’re done. I’m not your friend anymore.”
“Sam- we can talk about this” Tears pool in your eyes. You try to get up but all that happens is a crawl
“We can’t. You’re weak and pathetic and can’t do anything without me.”
Sam doesn’t look back when you say her name through tears. Sam doesn’t look back when she hears a few laughs and whispers directed at you. Sam doesn’t look back.
//-//
“Heyyyyy (Y/n)!” Sam’s voice slurs over the phone. It was almost one in the morning, what the hell was this girl doing? Not to mention this is the first time she’s even talked to you since middle school. And yet, you still answered without hesitation. Damn you really needed to grow a backbone
“Sam? What’s going on?”
“Nothingggggg whut’re y’doin?”
“I was trying to go to sleep then you called me. Where are you?”
“Why’d y’wanna know? You’re not my momma!”
“Are you drunk? Sam, you’re underage!”
“No fun… I’m wif my friends! We at a partayyy!”
“Whose house are you at?” Grabbing your keys, you race to the door. Your dad was asleep and you only had your learners permit but you couldn’t just hang up on your Sam like that.
“Uh… Tristan? He’s in our uh… what class is he in?”
“Math. Tristan from math, got it” You knew where he lived. You tutored the guy as requested by his parents but he paid you more money to stop coming to his house than his parents did for your tutoring business. How could you say no to free money?
Thankfully he wasn’t far. Thank god for that, you weren’t one to drive at night
You go faster than you hope but luckily you don’t get pulled over. You really didn’t want to go to overnight jail and face your dad the next morning but surely he would understand the circumstances you were in. He knew you, he knew Sam, he knew the devotion.
At least that’s what you told yourself on the way to Tristan’s house
You could hear the house blasting bad music from about four blocks away. It was a wonder how the police hadn’t shown up yet. Unless he paid off them too. You wouldn’t put it past the guy
Were you invited? No. But in all the movies you’ve watched - said movies being Mean Girls - random people just showed up and nobody cared enough to kick them out. So you walked up to the door like you were invited and instantly started looking for Sam
The music was so loud you could feel it in your lungs and couldn’t hear your thoughts. You couldn’t imagine this was the scene Sam was willing to put herself in but then again you hadn’t talked to her in years. Maybe under all those layers she was a party animal at heart
You internally laugh at the thought. Like hell Sam’s actually a party animal
After a bit you find Sam snorting some drug that probably shared the name with a sexually transmitted disease. Grabbing the sleeve of her shirt, you drag her out of the house while her friends groan and call you a party pooper.
“Hey! Wh- what’s wrong wif you!?”
“We’re going home, Sam. I’m taking you home”
“No! T-Tara can’t see me. Wanna go somewhere else…” Sam struggles against your grip. She’s always been stronger than you but in her intoxicated state you could probably carry her like a sack of potatoes if you tried hard enough
“Fine, I’ll take you to my house. You can spend the night”
“Noooo, wanna party…”
“We’re going home, Sam.”
In all of your years of friendship with Sam, she’s never seen you so stern before. The Carpenter keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the car ride.
After lots of trial and error, you eventually get Sam out of your car and into your bedroom with much difficulty. Thankfully your dad was the heaviest sleeper you knew. You search for a shirt and shorts that fit Sam, ignoring her protests of not wanting to sleep
Against your better judgment, you now have your intoxicated ex-best friend in your bed as her sobriety was nowhere to be found
“Why did you call me, Sam? Even in your state I know you couldn’t do that on accident”
“Ugh, friends made me. Wan’ me t’call my first crush”
“What?” You’re taken aback. Did you hear her correctly?
“Tired… m’sleepy”
You sigh, bringing your hand to Sam’s face to stroke her cheek. Your heart breaks when the older Carpenter leans into your hand like a touch starved cat. You wished things would go back to normal but Sam was stubborn. She wouldn’t let you in no matter how many times you tried.
“Go to sleep, Sam. I hope I’ll see you in the morning” You’re only met with small snores
You wanted to hate Sam. You wanted to hate Sam with all your heart for pushing you away and not even looking at her sister anymore
You wanted to hate Samantha Carpenter so badly but you couldn’t
//-//
It’s nine thirty in the morning when you hear a knock at your door. It was a Saturday. Who the hell was up this early? Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and attempting to smooth out your hair with your hands, you begrudgingly walk downstairs to the door. Your dad was at work already and usually you weren’t up at this hour
Looking through the peephole, you don’t expect to see Tara Carpenter in tears at your door.
“Hey what happened, sweetheart?” You bend down to meet Tara’s eyes. They were red and puffy, evidently showing she was crying a lot. And a lot before she got to you
“S-Sam, she-“ Your heart broke when Tara couldn’t let out even a few words without hiccuping and sniffling
“You can tell me later, darling. How about we drink some juice and you can tell me what’s happening, yeah?”
“No! S-Sam’s…” There seemed to be a never ending amount of tears flowing. “She’s gone, (Y/n). She’s gone and she’s gone for good.” Tara runs into your arms, staining your shirt with her tears.
“What do you mean, baby?”
“M-Mom said Sam left a-and isn’t coming back…” Your heart breaks when Tara’s breathing gets quicker and isn’t able to catch her breath
You pick up the younger Carpenter, taking her to your couch. Tara’s on your lap and you’re holding her just like her mom probably did when she was born. It was something your dad always did, even when you got older. Sometimes people just needed to be babied no matter how old they were.
So you start rocking Tara. She’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping her alive and you move her ear to your heart. Placing her head under your chin, you hum a tune that was familiar to you. A lullaby your mom always sung to you before she died
You kiss Tara’s forehead with tears in your eyes. You saw how Sam changed and you couldn’t help her. You knew this day was going to come and you couldn’t stop it. But how could you?
When Sam looked at you with such hatred and anger, you’d wonder if she was still the same Sam that pushed Carlos because he broke your new crayons. When you saw her high out of her mind with people that didn’t care about her, you’d wonder if she was the same Sam that watched the stars with you on your trampoline. When you looked at Sam all you could see was what you two were. Was your Sam even still in there there?
You felt disgusted with yourself. You could’ve done something and yet you did nothing.
You’d never see best friend again and Tara would only remember her sister as hateful and unloving. Memories of Sam would go sour until you only had Tara and Tara only had you as a reminder of who Sam used to be.
When the younger Carpenter sees you also crying, she somehow manages to hug you tighter than she already has. What a lovely girl Tara was.
“A-Are you okay, (Y/n)?” The brunette says in a small voice
“Can I be honest with you, Tara?” You earn a nod from the small girl
“No. I’m not okay. But you know what? I’ve got you and you got me. Thank you for telling me.”
“(Y/n)?”
“Yeah?”
“Mom says she isn’t coming back. Sam didn’t talk to me a lot but I miss her.”
“You’ve got such a big heart, Tara. Did you know that? Please don’t ever lose it for me.”
“Will Sam come back?”
Your breath hitches and for a second you’re left without words in your throat and without knowledge about the future.
“Yes… she’ll come back. Sam just doesn’t know it yet.”
Tara’s mom comes storming in a second later with an out of breath angry expression that slowly softens when she sees how her daughter is nestled in your arms
“Tara, you can’t just run away like that. You made me so scared, you know I can’t run as fast as you” Her mom presses a kiss to her forehead
“I had to tell (Y/n), Mom! She’s Sam’s best friend and she deserved to know”
Her mom brought a hand to Tara’s face to wipe a few stray tears. With her other, she placed on your shoulder with a small nod. Sam was gone. She was gone for good.
//-//
Sam spends her first night away from home in her car in a neighborhood she didn’t recognize. The first night Sam leaves, she holds Ghostie in her arms and hopes it’s enough to keep her safe.
//-//
“You’re hiding something”
“What?” You and Tara always hung out ever since Sam left. Her mom hasn’t been the same since her husband walked out. You offered to be one of Tara’s caretakers to help her mom with the load of being a single mother without Sam or her husband’s support
Your dad wasn’t home very often but every now and again he’d give you random tips on how to raise a teenager. At least, tips he used when he raised you. At first he was skeptical of you taking on the role of caretaker at such a young age but when you employed Tara to use her puppy eyes, it was a losing battle for him.
So Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Tara was all yours. You’ve been doing this since you turned eighteen and could confidently drive without being nervous at all. Also mostly because you couldn’t be her guardian in the eyes of the law under eighteen
There was a void in Tara’s heart and while you couldn’t fully replace her sister, the least you could do was be there. Which is how you knew something was up when she started picking at one of the things she loved so dearly. Your cooking.
“I know you’re hiding something, squirt”
“You’re crazy, I’m not hiding anything” Tara scoffs
“Hey, I’m not decades older than you. I know when you’re lying” You hated pulling the ‘I used to be your age’ card but now you’re realizing how effective it is when you’re only six or seven years older than Tara
Tara throws her head back, groaning in what seems to be frustration and covering her face. You can’t hold back your snicker. The younger Carpenter was always one for theatrics
“You don’t have to tell me but I could really help you, you know? With how super knowledgeable I am, as you know”
“Knowledgeable my ass, you didn’t know your microwave had a popcorn button until I told you”
“In my defense, I heard you’re not even supposed to use the popcorn button for popcorn”
“Then why is it called a popcorn button?”
“I dunno. Maybe the same reason why Greenland is called Greenland”
“What?”
“Deception. The guy who found Greenland named it that cause he wanted more people to come over. I bet he was lonely”
“Why do you know that?” Tara says in between laughs
“No clue, but we’re getting off topic!” You smile. “The point is, you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep secrets from me.” You reach over to pinch Tara’s cheek and she tries to swat your hand away, ultimately failing. “Well, big secrets. If you cheated on a test or something I don’t care that much”
“Thanks, (Y/n)”
“No problemo, squirt”
So now you were back to silently eating dinner except for your TV playing some sitcom Tara liked. You could handle the quietness. Even if Tara didn’t want to tell you, at least she knew you were there to listen. That’s all that mattered
“(Y/n), I think I like a girl.”
//-//
“What was Sam like?” Tara says out of the blue. “I was thirteen when she left but she didn’t really talk to me. What was she like… before that?”
It was another weekend night that consisted of spending time with Tara. The question catches you off guard
“I don’t think you’d believe me, squirt”
“Well I wanna know anyways. Even if i believe it or not”
“Did you know Sam named you?”
“She did?”
“Yeah, Sam named you Tara. You were unnamed for a while before she came up with anything.”
“Mom said she was mean. Is that true?”
“I mean yeah, but not entirely. When you’re friends with Sam, she’d be the nicest person you’ve ever met. Hell, she’d probably kill for anyone she loved. But when someone messed with a person she loved, nothing could stop her from making her loved one feel better”
“I wish I could’ve experienced it.”
“Trust me, you did. You just don’t remember it. One time when you were little, a kid that was around Sam’s age at time pushed you into the mud at the playground and Sam was furious” You laugh
“You cried and Sam could hear you from where we were playing soccer. She found him and kicked his ass so hard he crawled back to his mommy so we took you and booked it out of there”
“She did that?” Tara covers her mouth laughing, failing to cover it up
“I remember it like it was yesterday, squirt. Sam gave you a piggy back ride and you were giggling the entire time we ran home.”
//-//
“Fuck, Tara! Shit, I came as fast as I could. Are you okay? Oh my god, of course you’re not okay.” You barged into Tara’s hospital room without any concern of who else was in there. You took her face in your hands and scanned for anything wrong until you brought her into a bone crushing hug. “Sorry, stupid question. Holy shit I’m so happy you’re alive, squirt. I am never letting you out of my sight again. Okay maybe in the future I will, but the future is not now! Right now I’m never leaving you again.”
“You’re such a fighter, you know that? Holy shit you must’ve been so scared. Tara you’re the strongest person I know, did you know that?” There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill. You don’t even notice there are other people in the room.
“Deep breaths, (Y/n). I’m okay. Look, I’m right here” Tara takes one of your hands and puts it against her heart. Your eyes can’t hold in your tears any longer. When you cried, you rambled. Tara was ready for the storm.
“Fuck you’re such a sweet girl, Tara. Even when you’re lying in a hospital bed you care about me. I don’t know what monster would do this to you! He obviously doesn’t know what a blessing to this world you are. Please promise you’ll never let anyone stop you from being the beautiful sweet girl you are.”
There it was.
You felt a hand rub your back and your arm. You assumed it was Tara. Until you heard a hum that wasn’t Tara’s. Until you realized this person had rough hands. And oddly smelt like…
“Sam?” Your head whips around
“Hey, (Y/n). I… I missed you.”
“Sam?” You let go for a second and bring your hand to her face. Not in a cute or romantic holding-her-cheek-way, no, you pinch at her cheeks and nose with a questioning look. You poke at Sam’s forehead and nose, still probably in disbelief. Yeah, you were still her (Y/n).
“Please don’t tell me both of you are dead and I’m actually in a psych ward and this is all a dream” You whisper and you can hear Tara laugh behind you
“No, this is all very real.” Sam smiles, taking your hand off her face and gently putting it back by your side. Your eyes go wide and you whip around to look back at the younger Carpenter
“Tara, can I take my attention off you for a second? Will you be okay?” You whisper, knowing damn well Sam could hear you
“Yeah I’ll be okay, (Y/n). Go hug Sam.”
You press a kiss against Tara’s hairline and immediately after, launch into Sam’s arms. Tara could feel it again, you were going to start crying and rambling.
“Sam, I can’t believe you’re here! Well of course you’re here. I always knew you’d come back! I knew you wanted to come back. I don’t know why you left, but I hope you achieved your goal and came back because you missed us. Also I’m really mad at you but for the sake of time we can discuss that at a later time.”
There it was.
“You two are close, huh?” You don’t notice there’s a man with curly hair in the room and you raise an eyebrow at Sam
“Yeah, very close” You say
“Sorry, I should introduce you two. (Y/n), this is my boyfriend Richie. Richie, this is (Y/n). My…” Fuck. Sam couldn’t just say you were her best friend after all these years. After she made your life shit, was she even allowed to call you her friend? What if-
“Best friend. Happy to meet you, Richie”
“Likewise” He smiles. There’s a pang of a certain emotion in your chest you can’t quite place
“Well, I’ll be going now. Feel better soon, Tara” Richie waves at the younger Carpenter and gives Sam a kiss before he leaves Tara’s hospital room
“Do you know if my friends are visiting soon?” Tara asks you. Sam doesn’t know how to feel when she sees Tara treating you more like a sister than her. She knew it was wrong. Sam had no right to be treated like a sister after she just up and left all those years ago
“Amber told me she was getting some of your things from her house. The twins are coming over right now, okay? I think you’ll feel better when you see them”
Sam felt like an alien watching you and Tara talk. Watching you two was like watching everything she’s missed. Sam missed almost all of Tara’s high school experience. Arguably one of the most important times to have an older sister. She shouldn’t have been jealous. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous after all she did to you and Tara
“How’re you feeling right now? Anything I need to tell the doctors?”
“No, I’m feeling okay”
“Hey, can I talk to you outside, (Y/n)?” Sam says almost above a whisper
“Yeah, of course.” You turn to face Tara as you walk out her room. “See you in a second, squirt. Don’t run away” The brunette rolls her eyes at your words
“Guess I owe you all my stuffed animals, huh?”
“You still remember that?” You raise an eyebrow at the girl
“I do. I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”
“An explanation would be appreciated” You weren’t mad at Sam per se, just very very very disappointed. Mostly at yourself for letting her leave
“You remember when I yelled at you that day in middle school? I said I didn’t want to talk to you or be your friend anymore? It’s not an excuse, but I have an explanation.”
You nod along to Sam’s story, listening close
“The night before I yelled at you, I found out my dad wasn’t really my dad. I was going through my mom’s diaries I found in the attic and it was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I.. I found out I was-“ Sam doesn’t realize she’s crying until she chokes on her words and your expression falters. Sam remembers you were always good at comforting people
She’d always get bruises and scrapes when she was younger but you were always there to make her feel better. Fuck, she can’t remember why she would ever leave you. You were the perfect best friend. Always an inviting smile and open arms that were ready for hugs. The only one that stuck with Sam through whatever happened.
Sam was at her lowest of lows when you picked her up that night during the party. She remembers wondering why she’d put you so much pain and worry. She smoothed out the wrinkles on your forehead while you were asleep and felt guilty she was probably the cause of them. That night when you picked up Sam from that party and you had your arms wrapped around her, Sam asked herself why she would ever push you away. She loved everything about you. She loved you.
In her drunken state she remembers wanting to fade away into your memory. At least then you’d remember the Sam that played tag with you and not the one that snorted or drank away her pain. It was the same night she decided to leave everything behind. She decided to leave you behind
But Sam was selfish. She wanted you to tell her not to go. To come back into your arms and for you to tell her everything would be okay. That it didn’t matter she was the bastard child of a serial killer. It wasn’t her fault her dad left. Reassuring her you and Tara would love Sam the same. In a perfect world Sam would’ve still been Tara’s sister and you would’ve been her-
“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to tell me. If this is hurting you so much then I understand why you wanted to run away. What matters is that you came back. You’re strong for that” You pull Sam into your arms, letting her cry into the side of your neck.
Sam didn’t have the heart or the voice to tell you it wasn’t the story making her cry. She feared her voice would fail her and drive you away again. Sam would tell you why she left later
But right now, Sam was happy to be able to bask in your arms once again.
//-//
“Hey, (Y/n)?”
“Mhm?” You and Sam were back at your house getting some things Tara wanted
She requested the teddy bear Amber got her for her birthday, a blanket from her bed, and something better than hospital food. You decided to whip up something quick and simple you knew Tara liked. Frozen orange chicken from the store and fried rice
“I think I can tell you about why I left now.”
“Are you sure? I’m not gonna force you to tell me if it hurts so much to say, Sam”
“No, you of all people deserve to know. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m the same person that said all those horrible things to you and just never talked to you again without explanation.”
“Hey, don’t worry about all that. It’s in the past now and I know you’ve changed. I forgive you-“
“No, (Y/n). You can’t forgive me. You can’t make excuses for me and talk to me like we’re best friends again when I ignored you because I was mad at myself and- and-“ Sam chokes on her words and can’t hide it when you glance at her.
“Oh, Sam…”
“No, you can’t forgive me yet. I betrayed your trust. You can’t forgive me.”
“Sam, I accepted your apology when I saw you in Tara’s hospital room. Whatever you were going to say, I already knew I’d forgive you all the same.”
“Stop saying that, (Y/n). You don’t always have to be nice, you can be mad too.”
“But it’s true, Sam. If I’m mad at someone, I’m mad at myself for not fighting for you harder”
“How can you still look at me even when I left you. Years of friendship, all down the drain because I couldn’t handle being the bastard child of a serial killer that broke her family apart.” You turn off the heat to your stove, walking over to where Sam was curled into herself and sitting near the bottom of the staircase
Taking a seat next to her, you drape your arm around her shoulders and attempt to get her to rest her head on your shoulder. Sam doesn’t let you and fights back.
“Samantha Carpenter, you have been gone for five years. One-thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, not including leap day. You aren’t allowed to push me away again. If you really want to say sorry, you can start by letting me in.” You take on a faux-mad tone and it seems to work
Slowly, the older Carpenter leans into your shoulder with a sigh. She makes herself comfortable and looks at you through her eyelids. It was weird. Five years out of Woodsboro and four years away from you, yet you still opened up your arms like nothings changed. It was odd. You were odd.
“What’re you thinking about?” You’ve always had a knack for reading Sam’s mind. Whenever she got quiet and her heart looked like it slowed, she was probably thinking
“You.”
“What about me?”
“How I don’t get you”
“What don’t you get about me?”
“I haven’t talked to you in nine years, I show up unannounced, and you’re still acting like we’re best friends even after all this time. I can’t tell if you’re the nicest or weirdest person ever.”
“Can’t I be both?” You smile, trying to lighten the mood. You realize it doesn’t work when Sam shies away from your gaze
“Well, I can be honest. I think it’s because I’m selfish.” That makes Sam look at you again so you decide to keep going
“Of course I’m… disappointed you broke up our friendship and you left without telling me and left your sister and I to believe you were never coming back,” The older Carpenter winces at your words but you don’t let her stop looking at you. Even as you avoid eye contact and place your gaze somewhere else.
“But there’s a part of me that wants everything to go back to normal. I know we’re going to have to talk about it. About us and about why, but right now I think what we need to do is be there for Tara. She’s in the hospital after being attacked by a serial killer and the last thing she needs is her older sister and her best friend fighting. We can do all the yelling and crying and screaming later.”
Taking a breath in, you look back at Sam who’s already looking at you. I’m makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand.
“And maybe that’s my excuse. Maybe I never want to cry or yell or scream at you. Maybe I’m putting off the inevitable because I don’t want you to leave again. Maybe Tara is my excuse for not being mad at you. Maybe I’m holding out hope for someone that doesn’t exist anymore. We’re different people than when we were in middle school. I don’t want to cling to a person that doesn’t exist anymore yet here I am, clinging to someone that doesn’t exist like she’s my lifeline. But in all honesty, I don’t think I could stay mad at you for too long. Even if I tried.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” There’s a silence that passes between you two. You can’t tell if it’s awkward or comfortable silence. You hope it’s the latter
“Do you get me a little more?”
“Well, not entirely. But I think it’s a step.”
“Yeah. Steps are good, aren’t they? Keep you healthy.” Sam smiles at your stupid joke.
You don’t miss how Sam still reminds you of looking like one of your old stuffed animals.
“What was Tara like?”
“What do you mean?” The question catches you off guard. The Carpenter sisters seemed to have that in common
“I missed a lot of her life. What was she like?”
“I don’t think she’s changed a lot. Tara is a sweet girl, she’s got a good head on her shoulders and a good heart in her body.”
“But that’s probably not what you’re asking. Tara was… distraught when you left.” You pick your words carefully. “She ran away from her mom just to tell me you left. She said I deserved to know since I was your best friend. It took a while for her to want to let go of me me. It’s when I knew I just couldn’t let her stay like that forever”
You shakily sigh before continuing. You’d have to acknowledge the elephant in the room eventually and you decided it was going to be now. “I know I’m not her real sister. I hope you’ll forgive me for taking a role that was supposed to-“
“Are you kidding?” Sam quickly cuts you off when she registers what you’re saying. “If anything, I’m happy it was you.” The Carpenter lifts her head up from your shoulder to look at you. To really look at you. “I know she has a good person to look up to. I’m happy you two are close.”
You’re about to respond when your ringtone goes off. The same ringtone you had in high school. Some Evanescence song you remember religiously listening to in school blasts from your phone. Usually it was Tara who found it embarrassing when you had to answer it in public but this time it was you with the reddened cheeks. Scrambling to find your phone in your pocket, you pull it out to see it’s Tara calling you
“Hey squirt. What’s up?”
“Are you guys going to hurry up anytime soon? I’m starving”
“Yeah we’re leaving just now don’t worry about it”
“Okay but my stomach is currently eating itself”
“You’ll live. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Don’t go running anywhere”
“At least I don’t run jokes into the ground until they’re dead… pun not intended”
“Hah! Proof you’re taking after me whether you like it or not”
“Whatever, I’ll see you soon. Run red lights if you have to”
“You got it, boss. See you soon” You pocket your phone, getting up from where you’re sitting. Offering Sam your hand, she takes it and you help her up too
“C’mon, our little girl’s hungry. That’s something you should know, she’s got an appetite the size of an elephant and a metabolism as fast as a cheetah” You smile, putting Tara’s food in a lunchbox you had in a random cabinet somewhere
Sam doesn’t trust her voice to do anything but break so she laughs at your comment and you both leave your house
Sam thinks our little girl has a good ring to it.
//-//
“Oh my god. Tara? Sam?” You narrowly avoided the police yelling at you to get away and the caution tape that prevented you from coming any closer. What used to be a house that held fond memories had been replaced with one that only caused you worry. You couldn’t lose both Tara and Sam. You couldn’t lose your favorite girls.
Sam texted you to come over to Amber’s house. That it was a Ghostface emergency and the speed in which you jumped in your car rivaled The Flash himself
“(Y/n)!” Sam’s voice. You run to the sound, dodging and weaving through the paramedics and police officers telling you to leave
Sam finds you with bags under your eyes and your hair a mess. It looked like you were in your sleepwear. Even though you were just in a band tee and plaid pajama pants, Sam feels the need to wipe the blood off her face and clothes to look a little presentable. You always had that effect for some reason
“Sam.” You breathe a sigh of relief, running into her arms. Your choked sobs reach her ears and it’s the saddest sound she’s ever heard. Sam squeezes you tighter. Maybe if she did she’d never want to leave again
“You’re back and you almost left me again. Don’t you know how mad I would be if you died?” Pulling back, you put both of your hands on Sam’s cheeks like you did so many years ago. “You- you-“
“Hey, shh… I’m here. I’m here, sweetie. See? I’m here and I’m never leaving again.” Sam leans her forehead against yours, putting your hands around her waist so she could wipe the tears away from your face.
“I’m here, yeah? We won. They’re gone now, (Y/n).”
“How’re you sure?”
“They’re dead. Both of the Ghostfaces are dead.”
Sam leans in, awfully close for someone who’s just your best friend. Your mind instantly goes to her boyfriend. You know what’s about to happen so you back away, a little weary. The Carpenter furrows her eyebrows looking a little sad, oddly resembling a kicked puppy.
“What about Ric-?”
“Don’t say his name, it’ll ruin your perfect mouth” Sam cups your cheek, running her face over your bottom lip
You have to fight your body to not get hot at her words and actions. “Yeah but- he’s kind of your boyfriend. Where is he?”
“Ex-boyfriend actually. He’s dead, I killed him.”
“Oh. Am I right for assuming that’s a god thing?”
“Very good. He was one of the Ghostfaces”
“One of? Who’s the other?”
“I think Tara should be the one to tell you”
“Well, I didn’t like Richie to begin with. He gave me an odd feeling”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Sam leans in closer to you, a ghost of a kiss hanging in the air waiting to be taken. Sam smiles against your breath and for a fraction of a second you think your heart has stopped beating.
“He got to kiss you before I did.” Something snaps in Sam when you kiss her. A craving she’s always had, a certain desire finally being filled, or maybe even her dreams coming true.
You hold Sam like she’s about to leave again, pulling her impossibly close. You’re never letting her go again. It’s Sam who pulls away first. She’s out of breath but you lean in to steal more kisses before she smiles against your lips and it’s an image you never want to forget.
“Please, you two have to stop doing this.” You whisper, your eyes going wide. “Where’s Tara?” You pull away from Sam, whipping your head around like it’s going to help you find her quicker
“C’mon, she’s over here. Be careful, don’t squeeze her too hard”
“I’m going to squeeze that girl until she knows how much I love her.”
“You might break one of her ribs, darling”
“Squirt, you’re alive!” You run to Tara as her head whips in your direction. You can feel tears pool in your eyes once again and you’re okay with letting them go.
“(Y/n), I was so scared. A-Amber she- she tried to kill me.”
“What? Amber? Amber as in, your girlfriend?” You say shocked, taking Tara’s face in your hands to look at her
“A-Amber and Richie, they-“
“How about we tell (Y/n) what happened later? We need to make sure everyone is okay, including ourselves. (Y/n) can wait, right?”
“Oh I can wait alright. I’m the best at waiting. You can tell me about it when you’re feeling better”
One of the paramedics call over the Carpenter sisters and by proximity, you tag along. A man is ushering them in an ambulance and you’re also about to hop in before he stops you
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we can’t let you into the ambulance. We don’t have enough space.”
“That is my little girl and that is my girlfriend. I will either be running every single red light, hang on the top of this ambulance, or so forgive me god for what I’m going to do.”
“O-Of course, Ma’am. You can ride in the ambulance.”
“Thank you, sir. You made a good decision today” You pat his shoulder, taking your seat near Sam. You sling an arm around Sam’s shoulders and reach out to hold Tara’s hand.
“Girlfriend, huh?” Tara weakly smiles, looking between you and her sister.
566 notes · View notes
obeythebutler · 1 year
Note
Hi! I'm new to your blog so I apologize if I mess anything up.
Could I request MC surprising the brothers with a feast they accidentally cooked up because they were worried that there worried that their wouldn't be enough food for the brothers?
It's 7:30am and his brother still aren't ready for RAD.
Hell, they haven't even stepped down for breakfast. Even Beel, never the one to miss it is missing.
Did all his brothers decide to skip today's classes? Were they orchestrating some other useless prank?
Lucifer stares at his watch, waiting. If they don't come down in the next five minutes he's going to leave them at home and give them detention. Maybe he'll have to pull Mammon out of his bed again, or carry Belphegor down the stairs.
The thought of dragging his brothers like sacks of potatoes down the stairs makes his head ache. It’s always been like this, him caving in so easily to his brothers demands, being so lax on them.
The saving grace is the human exchange student.
MC.
They're on breakfast duty today, and Lucifer can smell the pleasant hint of roasted hellfire mushrooms. Cinnamon too. They've always been a diligent person when it comes to their work.
Unlike his brothers.
Sigh.
"If you all don't hurry up, the food is going to get cold!" Their voice rings from the kitchen, and Lucifer opens his mouth to give one last reprimand to his brothers, to hurry up and come down before he drags them.
There's a blur besides him then, a flurry of moment that messes up his perfectly styled hair.
"Food cooked by the human! I call dibs on it, I'm the great Mammon after all!"
The eldest gawks at his brother, perhaps in disbelief or surprise, and then fixes his hair in resignation. Whatever makes him be on time, his scoldings or MC's voice.
Lucifer rolls his shoulders, steps forward to get into the dining hall instead of the hallway, but then he senses footsteps on the stairs. Five pairs of shoes, each distinguishable from the other.
His brothers are a blur as they surpass him to get to the dining hall.
What the—
At this point, all the man can do is to slap his palm on his forehead.
They won't listen to him, but they'll willingly rush to the dining hall when MC calls, huh? For the sake of hell and everything that is corrupted, they're such simps that its intolerable to watch.
As soon as he steps in though, Lucifer is rendered speechless by the sight in front of him. So are the brothers.
There's just.....so many plates of food. Creamed Bonnacon, Devil Zebra Bacon Sandwich, Hell Pancakes, and that doesn't even cover it. Blood Strawberries, Caramel Shadow Tart, Ghost Watermelon....It's a feast fit for a banquet, and it must have taken so much time to cook all that...
"T-That's......that's just like that anime! Where the main character cooks up a feast for their roommates because they didn't want them to go hungry so they woke up at the crack of—"
"Shut yer mouth Levi." Mammon says, although there is no irritation in his tone as he gapes at the dining table. He can spot some of his favorite foods, given that there are plates and plates of them. He mentioned some of his favorite things to eat to MC long time back, but he didn't think that they would remember.
The fourth-born has a smile on his face now, as he stares at the cat drawn on his pancake with blueberry syrup. It's so cute.
He remembers MC placing some pots and utensils on the table the night before, stating that it would be less time-consuming in mornings given the rush.
His cheeks feel hot.
"Now, darling, that is quite a feast you have cooked up for us!" Asmodeus hangs behind MC's shoulder as he compliments them. There is still flour on their cheeks, and so he wipes it away from them using his thumb, earning squawks of protest from both Levi and Mammon. "Thank you so much! This is soo going on Devilgram!"
"I thought the usual wouldn't be enough," They mumble, nervously shifting their gaze from the brothers to the table. Asmo's weight on their shoulders is a comfortable one, yet the intense scrutiny they are subjected to makes them want to hide away. "Next thing I knew was that I kept adding and adding ingredients until I realised what I did. So you better finish it all."
Belphegor giggles. "That won't be a problem." He can sense his twin's growing hunger at the sight of the feast before him, and food does taste better when cooked by your loved ones. The demon is glad that he chose to be on time today.
Wait, Beel was right besides him, he isn't here....
"Woah—" MC can only stumble out the words as they are caught off guard when pulled into a hug by the sixth born. He's tall, and so warm. "Easy there!"
"Thank you MC!" Beel's voice is full of happiness, and he can't help but hug them for it. He knows his gluttony is a lot to handle, and it causes a lot of trouble for others, but them going out of their way to make extra efforts and ensuring that he and his brothers won't go hungry makes him feel loved.
He'll wait this time, to eat with MC.
"At what time did you wake up to cook all of this?"
You turn your head towards Satan, who is now besides you. Gazing at you ever so softly. "I woke up around three, couldn't sleep since I had drunk a lot of coffee the night before."
"Your sleep schedule will be messed up if you continue," He reprimands you, but his tone is light.
"Thank you for ensuring that we all don't go hungry though." Lucifer smiles as he says that.
Maybe this is what home is.
You and the brothers, cooking too much and enjoying it nevertheless. Casual conversation drifting across the table, with Hell coffee as bitter as ever, packing some for Purgatory Hall residents and leaving together for RAD as the gates to the house close behind you all in remembrance.
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bunicate · 5 months
Text
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. itto x fem reader already burdened by your small chest, a rumor you happen to overhear makes you reluctantly ask your dear older brother for a helping hand.
warnings ꒱ྀི incest. reader has smaller breasts. tit sucking + minor worship ノ wc ꒱ 2k ノ 18+ ノ I wanted to write a haithy and wrio version as well but da wordz were not coming. can’t believe im writing for dis silly oni omg . . but enjoy pls <3
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“don't be so crude, you idiot.”
it doesn’t take much to discern the confusion from his expression. itto had a range of maybe three emotions.
other than his overwhelming display of pride and exuberance, there’s always room for his dumbfoundedness. he’s frequently addled— his face constantly knitted together while his mind searches endlessly to find the answer, at least the one he thinks you want to hear, but he never really does.
“what ? you said you wanted me to help, right ?” he shrugs.
you narrow your eyes.
“I know what I said but you didn’t have to word it like . . . like that .”
like some animal, you want to say but instead you look at your brother in distaste.
too many times you find yourself struggling to accept the gap in your relationship. most people often make the wrong assumption of you being the older sibling and you have to begrudgingly correct them that no, you are in fact the younger and smarter sibling.
why couldn’t he tell that you’re already embarrassed enough as it is ? why do you have to spell it out and add to the duration of your suffering. by now, your cheeks are practically inflamed.
“how else do I ask ? oh , should I add the please ?” he pauses.
“show me your tits, please.”
he offers you a dopey smile of triumph. he’s proud of himself, thinking for once he’s finally appeased you, but he couldn’t be more wrong. so so wrong.
you’re aggressive with your sigh.
you were too smart to ask him of all people. you’re way too intelligent to believe in silly rumors and baseless gossip, but they tangle in the mire of your thoughts.
“if someone sucks on your breasts, they’ll grow !”
“huh ? no way. where did you hear that ?”
it was two women in passing, just talking and having a laugh and yet you can’t stop yourself from just wondering.
you’re not blessed like your brother. the oni towers over you, well over six feet. a mantle of bulging arms, broad shoulders, and thick thighs. he’s as big and intimidating as it gets but that aura quickly dispels every time he opens his mouth.
you on the other hand are thicker in other places, your chest, however . . . not so much.
you look down pathetically and think about all the colored tube tops that just didn’t fit you quite right.
what did you have to lose ? you’re pride maybe. you’re just as prideful as your brother, maybe even more, but the soft slopes of fat poking through your shirt mock you. they remind you that maybe you can afford to throw your ego away. temporarily.
you whine as your patience wears you thin.
murmuring a quick prayer to archons to have them spare you from further embarrassment, you bury your doubts in the back of your mind.
“I hate you.”
you lift your shirt quickly, just ripping the bandaid off.
you expose your breasts to the cool air and to surprised vermillion hues.
the longer he stared, the more you wanted to hide. of all the array of emotions you’ve seen, ( three ) you can’t pinpoint this exact one. it’s new to you. it borders on unbridled warmth, but then after a few seconds of your nipples perking from his gaze, it dithers. . . and then he fucking squints.
“so small.”
there’s a beat of silence and it takes that brief moment to even register that you did not mishear him. you’re not sure what you expected.
itto certainly isn’t the brightest and his emotional intelligence is nearly non-existent, and still, you’re taken aback by his talent to be consistently unaware.
you feel awkward and vulnerable in the middle of the room. you bared yourself to him, your insecurity right to his face, and the only thing he could do was confirm that you are indeed a small-chested oni. it shouldn’t bother you, but it does.
you liked to think you could handle the truth just as much as you bluntly dished it out, but this time you couldn’t.
a flash of white-hot anger runs through you at his audacity. you yank your shirt down eager to hide in your room and cry about your humiliation. you’ll write his name in big stupid letters in your fuzzy-covered journal and call him a big fat meanie. i for idiot, t for trashy , t for terrible, and a big fat o for obtuse.
“asshole !” you scream.
you can tell he’s surprised by your outcry. you glare at him hoping that he would turn to ashes on the spot, but unfortunately, he doesn’t.
he’s too busy panicking. he’s struck with the startling realization that he’s messed up again and that you were pissed.
so many times you’ve stomped your pink heels in anger and strutted away, mini skirt riding up with every step you took. and each time he reacts the same.
he tries to fix it.
he’s quick to react, immediately reaching for you in urgency. “w-wait wait wait wait ! where ya’ going ?”
“ oh, don’t you dare touch me you, oaf ! you think I don’t know that they’re small already ? why would you say that ?! “ you pull away more than desperate to increase the distance from him.
“hey hey hey. calm down, baby sis. m’not making fun of you.”
it takes his hands resting on your shoulders and the worried look in his eyes to make you come to a stop.
you lick your lips and take a shaky breath.
he’s right.
itto is many things but never a bully. he’d never say anything purposefully mean, no matter how much you bad-talked him. he’s kind and loyal but unfortunately, all the brains just happen to go to you .
“I didn’t mean to make ya feel bad,” he says sheepishly. “jus’ think they’re cute, that’s all.”
he releases his grip on you to scratch behind his head, eyes flickering to your chest again. a blush colors his face to a shade of carnations.
you’re a sweet girl with an unfiltered mouth that would bend to no one, not even to the archons themselves. and you were tearing him apart with that pout and your pretty nubs peeking through the fabric of your shirt.
he’s your big brother and he angered you quite a lot but, never deliberately. but this time he’s determined, for once he wants to ease your worries and not add to them.
he stands a bit closer brushing away a saltine tear that regretfully falls.
“If ya still want me to do it, I will. I think . . . it could work if I just do it hard enough.”
you don’t answer him but you don’t think you need to.
he searches your eyes trying to find any sign of disapproval. itto remains unsure, he’s never good at picking up on the small nuances of your emotions and so he tugs at your shirt in uncertainty.
still angry and embarrassed, you look up at his stupidly handsome face and relent.
“jus’ do it you big dummy.”
like everything else you expect him to handle you roughly. to rip your shirt and bite and suck at your nipples until they bruise under his touch, but he does the opposite.
his free hand travels around your sternum at first, surprisingly gentle. his fingers are soft when they circle around your breasts, tenderly flicking the flesh to watch them jiggle. he thumbs at your wide areolas, tracing the tiny bumps in complete fascination.
you grow uncomfortable at how intimate it felt. his eyes are blown wide, drinking up the sight of your tits rising with each shuddered breath.
“d-don’t play with them. jus’ hurry up n’ suck .” you leap at the opportunity to break the tension, but somehow you’ve made it worse.
as soon as the words leave your mouth, he responds just as fast. it nearly knocks the wind out of you when his mouth latches onto your breast.
they’re small but there’s so much flesh , so much chub that itto can’t stop playing with. his tongue laps at your left mound, licking underneath it, licking around it, and sucking at all the fat he can fit into his mouth. he’s noisy, grossly so . he groans and curses each time he has to detach his mouth from your nipple to come up for air.
“pretty tits taste s’good, “ he slurs. he can’t form the words, not when he’s desperate to fondle your breasts with his slippery tongue.
itto squeezes you so tight, it nearly hurts but you couldn’t dare tell him to ease up. there’s something hard rubbing on your lower stomach and you're scared to even dare to think about what it could be.
he slowly drags his rough flesh up and down your mound, shivering when your nipple grazes his appendage. his fingers grope at your waist and hips, palms nearly enclosing your smaller figure.
“f-fuck , you’re tiny. m’not hurting you, am I ?”
you don’t trust yourself to speak, terrified a moan would spill instead, so you shake your head.
he’s over two feet taller than you, pressing you into a corner and he has to remind himself that you’re his little sister. his dainty, spit-fire little sister who’s tits he’s currently mouthing on to rid her of her troubles.
he’d suck long and hard hoping your already perfect tits would someday be perfect to you. he wants to make you proud and show you he’s not just some rowdy oni. he’ll kiss and suck as long as you needed him to.
he tucks your nipple back into his mouth, puckering around the flesh like a sour candy.
you’re as pillowy and as delicate as he remembers. he almost forgot how he sinks into you. how his firm stomach settles into your soft one and he’s painfully reminded that his erect cock has been slowly rutting against you.
sucking your tits was riling him up. it was making him act in that brutish way that you hated, but he was trying so hard to keep from lining his cock with your opening and milking your cunt dry.
the oni has to pull away to gather himself. he takes the time to marvel at his work.
your right bosom is drenched in spit, puffy and swollen from his ministrations. he smiles.
“It looks bigger already, don’t ya think ?“
“shut it !”
another insult dies in your mouth as you're still catching your breath. an oni’s nose is extremely sensitive and you wonder if he could smell the arousal fermenting between your thighs.
“let me do the other one okay, baby. don’t want them to be uneven right ?”
“w-wait itto maybe we should s— eek !”
you need another moment of reprieve but you don’t get the chance. he puts the other tit in his mouth, tongue greedily flicking against the nub which tears a squeal from your lips.
itto is confident his methods will work just as sure as he’s about to blow a load in his pants.
“gonna suck your tits until they fatten up. isn’t that right, little one ?”
you mewl at the pleasure and the softness of which he utters a name he hasn’t called you in years.
“s-stop talking so much ! just be quiet and and —hnnn— stop teasin’ !”
he continues his assault on your chest, cock chubbing against his pants.
“m’sorry,” he slurs. “can’t help it.” his groans are fanning against your chest while he drools on your sensitive peaks. “let nii-nii take care of you . . just relax f’me. . . just take it.”
he’s hard. cums crowns his tip as he keeps conjuring up thoughts of wiping his cock over your tits, rubbing the head around your puffy brown nipple.
you smell good, you taste better and itto for once doesn’t care if you think he’s gross. he wants to milk your tits and suck until they become sweet little prunes , just so he can make it better.
your panties grow sticky as his sucks grow rougher. even if your breasts didn’t jump up a cup size you think that maybe this was worth it. to have him close, to have him drool and worship your tits and feel his cock straining against you.
his eyes closed, still nursing on your teat sweetly. your hand buries itself in his thick mane that draped over his shoulder smelling faintly of your shampoo.
it silently encourages him to keep going, leading to both of your undoings. the hand running through his hair tugs on his roots but then suddenly stills.
you see a brief flash of something and you gasp.
“itto why on earth is your dick out ?”
“can I put just the tip in ? please?”
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three-realms-archive · 2 months
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A Weak Wrist
Second oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!
“You will tell me what happened, Leviathan.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow at the scene before him. You, on the floor and clutching your wrist. Leviathan, on the other side of the room and in demon form, holding a first aid kit he had taken out of the cabinet. Lucifer had opened the door just as Leviathan had taken out a bandage and started swinging his arm, as if to throw it to you as if feeding a scared, wild animal. When Lucifer had asked, his younger brother suddenly couldn’t look him in the eye - instead, Levi looks to you for a response.
You say nothing. This is hardly new to Lucifer, who had noticed that he only tends to see you in shared classes or family dinners recently. He’d watch you joke and laugh with his brothers so easily, which was pretty good news. Finally, the human was behaving themselves. Strangely, though, Levi’s face takes an uncharacteristically serious expression. As if steeling himself for your sake.
“W-We, uh, were trying out this new video-game I got for family game night. There’s, like, a mat… A mat! With arrows you hop on. To, um, play.” Levi explains. “But they… they fell. Their wrist, they fell on it and it got hurt. Badly.”
“I’m fine, Levi. My wrist is - ah, ah - weak, anyway.” You try to respond, growling through gritted teeth when you try to roll your wrist around. Your heart softens when Levi mumbles what seems to be “… because of me.” and shake your head. You clamp your eyes shut to prepare and attempt - again - to rotate your hand about your wrist.
The pain is brutal… but at least it distracts from the even-more painful memories of a quiz with a demon; and the injury to your wrist that resulted in it being so prone to injury.
“You’re not going anywhere like that. Here.” Lucifer sighs, massaging his forehead. Weak, vulnerable humans. He doesn’t see you freeze. “Take my arm. We’ll go to the dining room, get you some water and sit you down with an ice pack.”
“…”
You don’t respond. This is hardly new to Lucifer, yet he finds himself irritated.
“MC. That’s not a request.” He raises his voice, moving closer and offering his hand to you - and you flinch. Away from him. Lucifer is confused because what had he done, other than offer you assistance?
You, frozen as solid as ice, provide little to no answer to that question. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer notices Leviathan gulp, holding his breath, eyes darting between his older brother and his best friend. His concentration flickering and one can almost see the imaginary cursor struggling to choose between two options of the visual novel scene playing in his mind.
‘Say something.’
‘Say nothing.’
Levi chooses the latter, but turns to you. He opens his arms rather awkwardly. And then, you have to make the choice instead.
Inwardly, Lucifer huffs. Levi had caused your injury then, and he had caused it now. And offering a hug, of all things? How naive. Lucifer let his eyes meet yours, not feeling the need to offer anything more than he already had.
… But Lucifer feels something foreign and unpleasant in his chest when he watches you walk across the room - and into Leviathan’s arms. He watches the third-born brother stutter in shock, taking a few minutes to process - before scrambling to meet you halfway. And why wouldn’t he need to process that? Why wouldn’t Leviathan be surprised, after being the reason for your weak wrist in the first place? After all; Lucifer had been right there, the eldest’s arm slightly bent at the elbow, ready for you to place your hand. Ready to lend you support. Irritatingly, annoyingly ready to do anything for you… and for you to do anything - anything - remotely significant to him.
Ready to receive the forgiveness you seemed to give to everyone else so damn easily over the last few months. Had you forgotten that all of his family, in one way or another, had a part to play in your hurt just as much as Belphegor?
You, Diavolo’s exchange student, had finally been behaving, ever since Belphie. Lucifer had been proud of himself for taming you, because murder was commonplace in the Devildom. He had thought that witnessing it for yourself was just the lesson you needed to stay away from danger. You never speak to him unless spoken to. You had stay in your room when he was home. You freeze when he’s near. You let yourself be cradled by demons who had almost snapped your arm in the midst of a fit of envy; and would rather that than even come within six metres of his arm. You stayed far away from danger. You stayed farther away from Lucifer. And the combination of his pride and distance from you had made admitting that impossible for him. Admitting that his brothers had been spending the past few months trying; reaching out to you.
Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, had not.
So - having met in the middle of the room - Lucifer watches as you stay with Leviathan. Levi doesn’t quite know what to do with his arms, so the two of you huddle together like penguins looking for warm, under Lucifer’s icy stare. Every now and again, you cautiously peer over Levi’s shoulder. Your knuckles turn white from gripping Levi’s hoodie fabric. Your eyes meet with those of the Avatar of Pride - you immediately look away.
Lucifer stands apart from you, still by the room’s entrance. The arm he had offered for you to is retracted, as it’s nowhere near enough to reach you. And nowhere near a hug.
A horrid, awful truth dawns on him, making his stomach drop like butterflies turning to lead inside.
His would only ever allow him to take half a step forward.
And, in return, you would take ten steps back - far, far away from him. Even farther than from the demon who had broken your wrist.
And it would be a long, long time before you would let him get close enough to reach you.
“… Lucifer.” You murmur; voice barely above a whisper. His eyes meet to yours faster than he would like. “C-Could you, um… Could you get me a glass of water? Please.”
He stays there, for a few seconds. His breath hitches.
He… eventually nods, turning to leave the room. He gets the water; and doesn’t realise he’s slightly rushing.
He returns a few minutes later. He sees that you’ve detached yourself from his brother and, when your eyes meet his, you take half a step forward. He glances away.
He doesn’t look at you when he makes his way across the room to where you’re standing. Nor does he realise he’s walking quicker than normal.
Suddenly, the sound of gentle scales scraping against wood echoes to break the deafening silence and Lucifer finds Levi’s tail at his feet. Right in front of you, and right in front of him. A barrier.
He glances at Levi, one of his beloved baby brothers, and sees that he’s holding his breath again. His eyes are trained on you.
And when you smile at Leviathan, your shoulders relaxing a millimetre, Lucifer realises this is as far as he goes.
… Then it happens.
He hands you the glass of water.
You take it.
He feels your fingers brush. The tiny, minuscule contact sends electricity through his gloves, down his fingertips, and the feeling surges through his arms and straight to his heart.
After a few minutes, Leviathan gradually begins to say something about new video-game suggestions for family game night. The words are hazy and unclear - Lucifer’s too busy focusing on how it felt to be near you; to touch you; to hear you speak to him without being spoken to first, for the first time in months. The first time in what had felt like millennia.
It would be a long time before you would let him get close enough to reach you.
But, as you give him the smallest of smiles as thanks for the water, he’s somehow reassured that the time would come.
The least he could do, after all he’s done, is wait.
(i know wanted to see some lucifer-centric stuff, so here it is! they specifically mentioned mammon and satan, and those will come in a later chapter since i more see them as stuff lucifer doesn’t pick up on; or, at least, stuff that doesn’t require him to face you directly, so he gets to keep his pride. all of the brothers have hurt mc in one way or another, so i wanted something clear and concrete and emotional that set lucifer apart. i figured, the phrase ‘to keep your pride’ is used often used to stop people from apologising, taking responsibility or doing something with humility - so i figured it would be the same with the avatar of pride. he won’t be the first to address it.)
(please look forward to the next chapters, as well as their accompanying headcanon chapters! some people have also asked to be tagged in the posts relating to this series, so please comment below if you’d like to be tagged too)
(finally, massive thanks to @kittylilyheart for submitting the original idea and check out Phantom Pain in the pinned masterlist post to see it! my ideas inbox is still open, so please read the rules in the pinned post and submit something obey-me related you’d like to see me write!)
Taglist:
@kittylilyheart @gallantys
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semisolidmind · 6 months
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I like the Y/n relationship with Dogday, is kinda sweet in my eyes :3 I imagine that a relationship with Catnap could work if he starts to see Y/n like their own person instead of just an Savior/New god. What do you think?
i think, that over time and with observation, catnap's "worship" of y/n would simmer down to an ardent appreciation, and quiet obsession.
y/n isn't like the prototype. they're far from a hulking mass of rot and metal capable of razing down everything in their path; a being that fits the title of "god," though a twisted one. they don't demand violence of him or the others under their care. their voice doesn't take up immeasurable space in his head, consuming his every waking thought (but they do take up space there, in their own quiet, persistent way).
y/n is human, soft and fragile. he could kill them without a second thought. their hands are small, calloused from work but endlessly gentle. they reach out and request touch, they don't demand it from him or any of them. the toys are allowed to deny them, though they rarely do.
outside the factory, they are an entirely different person. gone is the silent, determined ex-employee come to destroy; in their place is simply... y/n. the angel of mercy. or perhaps they were always the angel that wretched hound believes them to be, and catnap was too blind to see before. he considers himself lucky that he's been granted mercy by one so forgiving. he doesn't care if it's nothing more than pity; he's been freed.
he never thought he'd see real moonlight or daylight or trees or stars or— it's all so overwhelming. he spends the nights wandering the great wide expanse of the outdoors he's been granted access to, marveling at everything and hunting real, living, flesh and blood animals. his gratefulness to y/n can't be overstated. he doesn't mind that he's been relegated to the barn; anywhere that isn't a cell is better than his previous living arrangements.
y/n has every reason to despise him the way the other toys do. he's a monster in every sense of the word. and yet... they never deliberately make him feel like one.
they're still somewhat afraid; he can see it in the way they momentarily freeze when they make eye contact with him. despite this, they offer him kindness. though he avoids the other toys in the house (he's not blind to their hatred, would never dream of asking their forgiveness)...
any spare scrap of attention he can get from y/n is taken without hesitation.
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beneathstarryskies · 3 months
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Word Count: 2,986
Summary: At his low point, Geto decided to take a change on striking up a conversation with someone at a cafe. This conversation drives him into finding a new purpose.
Warnings: smut, fem!reader, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, depression, AU!Geto (he doesn't become a genocidal maniac), pussy saves lives, also Nanami makes a brief appearance
A/N: Shout out to my babygirl @actuallysaiyan for helping me stay inspired to finish this ❤️
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Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. 
It’s a brutal, mind-numbing cycle Geto has been stuck in for so long he doesn’t know if he’s capable of doing anything else. No matter what kind of path he tries to imagine for his future, it also comes down to the same cycle. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore. He never sees Satoru or Shoko. He feels stuck. Like a caged animal being prodded with sticks and struck by stones. 
It’s like watching a car crash and being unable to look away. Or worse it was like hearing the gunshot and then seeing Riko fall to the ground. That feeling of utter helplessness has never left except now he’s the one holding the gun and he doesn’t know where he’s going to point it. 
“I’m fucking done,” he hears Kento Nanami’s voice. The utter disdain in his voice is what grabs Suguru’s attention. Nanami is carrying a duffel bag on his shoulders, and Suguru sees him in something aside from his uniform for the first time.
“Kento, what’s wrong?” Suguru asks, setting aside his soda to walk outside. When Kento turns to face him, there’s an anxious look in his eyes. His jaw is set tight. 
“What are we dying for, Suguru?” Nanami asks. “I mean seriously?” 
“To…protect…” Suguru winces at the lack of conviction in his words. 
“Yeah, exactly,” Nanami rolls his eyes. “I’m out of here. I want to fucking live, okay?” 
Live. 
What does a life without sorcery even look like? Nanami has always been a bright spark of intelligence, and he’d shyly told Suguru a few months back he’d been accepted into college. Suguru wonders if he’d ever be able to get into college, but somehow he doubts it. 
He watches the younger sorcerer get into the car and then leave. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see Nanami again, and part of him hopes the answer is no. He wants Nanami to live as he said. 
Geto goes to grab his soda from where he left it, then he starts towards his dorm. He can’t stop thinking about what Nanami said. When he returns to his room, he changes clothes instead of moping around as he had planned. He puts on black pants and a sweater before going outside to get on his motorcycle. He rides into the city, not knowing exactly where he’s going until he ends up in front of a coffee shop. He doesn’t know why he stops here, but it’s better than wandering. 
He walks inside, and heads to the counter to order a coffee. He’s standing at the other end waiting for it to get done when he notices you. 
You’re sitting in a table by the window, scribbling away in your notebook. He can hear you humming softly, a song he vaguely recognizes. He’s never been one to approach strangers like this, but he likes the look of you. You’re pretty and you seem just unaffected. 
“Hi,” he says shyly as he approaches you with his coffee. “Can I sit?” 
“Oh, sure!” you smile softly and move your things. He’d expected you to look around at least to see if the other seats were taken before accepting him into your space, but you didn’t. “Nice bike,” you say sweetly. “I saw you pull up earlier.” 
“Ah, thanks. Sometimes I think it takes more work to keep her on the road than it’s worth.” 
“Everyone needs a pet project,” you shrug. 
Geto grins but hides it behind taking a sip of his coffee. You close your notebook and slide it into your bag. 
“I’m Geto Suguru,” he introduces himself. You smile and introduce yourself as well. He can’t remember the last time he spent more than five minutes in the company of a non-sorcerer. Ever since what happened at the temple…Seeing all those people cheer for Riko’s death…The thought of non-sorcerers made his stomach turn. 
“Do you go to the university?” you ask, and he realizes he has ventured close to the college. He wonders if it’s the same one Kento will be attending. 
“Me? No,” he chuckles. “You?” 
You nod, “Yeah, I’m actually between classes right now.” 
“What are you studying?” 
The second the question leaves his lips, a spark of excitement enters your eyes. You begin rambling animatedly about your studies, your future plans, and sharing pieces of knowledge you’ve picked up. His heart swells with affection as the way you smile when talking about it. Then, your smile fades into shyness and you look down at your coffee cup. 
There had been a time 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that,” you say shyly.
“No, please, don’t apologize,” he smiles. He wants to reach out to take your hand. Not just for your comfort but for his sanity, he wants to seek connection. His hand is already on the table, fingers stretching out in search of yours. He stops himself, but barely. He closes his fist and pulls his hand back. If you’d noticed, it didn’t dull the sparkle in your eyes. 
“I have to go to class, but would you like to exchange numbers?” you ask, and you’re already digging your notebook out of your bag again. 
“I’d like that,” Suguru grins as he watches you scribble your name and number. You pass it to him, and he feels a jolt of happiness when your fingers touch. It’s been so long since he felt someone’s touch. 
“Will you text me, for real?” you ask as you put your notebook away again. 
“I really will,” he smiles and carefully folds the paper.
Suguru returns to campus feeling something shift inside of him. He wants to live. 
Satoru is leaning against the wall beside the door to Suguru’s dorm. He’s looking at his phone, feeling so secure he doesn’t even look up to see who is approaching. 
“Where have you been?” Satoru asks. “I’ve been waiting forever.” 
“I went out on my bike,” Suguru opens the door. “Are you coming in?” 
“Yeah, duh,” Satoru follows him inside his dorm. It’s been ages since they hung out, but it’s never awkward between them. Still, Satoru notices something is different about Suguru. He seems relaxed. “So what have you been up to?” 
“Oh, you know, exorcise, consume, repeat…” Suguru wonders what will happen to the curses inside of him. When he leaves the jujutsu world, he guesses the curses will remain a part of him. 
“Nanami left,” Satoru says as he sits on the bed. 
“I know, I spoke with him.” 
“Too bad…I like Nanami,” Gojo pouts. 
“He hates you.” 
“No he doesn’t, he just pretends he does.” 
Suguru smirks, “Alright, Satoru.” Suguru leans against the wall, studying Satoru carefully before speaking again. This time he’s quieter, more serious. It’s a tone Satoru knows requires attention. “Have you ever though about leaving?” 
“Where would I go?” Satoru shrugs. 
“I suppose it’s different for you.”
Unlike most sorcerers, Satoru benefits greatly from being a sorcerer just by being who he is. He’s afforded almost any privilege imaginable. Suguru doubts Satoru would know how to function as a normal member of society. 
“Are you going to leave, Suguru?”
“I don’t know, Satoru.” 
**
You were shocked when Geto texted you. Part of you had figured he’d forget your shared moment in the coffee shop. You spend weeks chatting back and forth. You like him. He seems kind and intelligent in ways different from most of the people you meet. He hasn’t pushed for a date or in-person meeting again. He doesn’t ask for nudes or surprise you with a dick pic. You almost wonder if you’ve imagined him. 
Then, one night, after weeks of texting, he asks if you want to go out the coming weekend. You’re shocked, but thrilled, to receive the invitation. You agree to meet at a restaurant for dinner. 
For the next few days, Suguru focuses on settling into his new apartment so it’s not a mess on your date night. He doesn’t want to assume you’ll come back to his place, but his time as a sorcerer taught him to be prepared for any possibility. 
His preparation proves to be a good idea on the night of your date when he talks you into coming back to his place. It didn’t take much convincing on his part. You’ve been wanting to spend more time with him ever since you started texting. He holds your hand as he opens the door to let you inside. 
His heart is racing as he guides you to the couch and lets you settle in. You notice right away how sparse the decoration is. 
“Can I get you a drink?” he offers. Truth be told, lately, he’s been drinking more than he should to fight off the loneliness of living outside of a dorm for the first time in so long. 
“I’m okay,” you smile and pat the spot beside you on the couch. “Come here.” 
He feels nervous as he sits next to you. His hand wraps around yours and he squeezes gently. A smile crosses your face as you look up at him and say, “This has been a great date.” 
“I agree,” he blushes. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”
Your eyes move down to his mouth. He sees your tongue dart along your bottom lip and he knows what you want. A pang of panic hits him. He has a fear of you being able to taste the disdainful curses on his tongue. You lean closer, your lips parting with anticipation. At the last moment, he turns his head away so you end up sloppily kissing his cheek. You’re mortified at the mistake, then your heart sinks into your chest when you realize he’d dodged your kiss on purpose. 
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you swallow hard, trying to clear the lump in your throat. 
He watches your face drop. The look of sadness in your eyes breaks his heart. He holds your hands and tries to think of a way to explain this to you. He doesn’t know how to explain the fear of you being disgusted by the taste of his lips. He kisses your knuckles. 
“I apologize,” he says softly. 
“Do you not want to kiss?” 
He blushes, “I do…But…” 
“You’re scared?” 
It’s a shot in the dark, but your aim is surprisingly good. Geto’s cheeks burn and he looks down at your intertwined hands. 
“I am terrified,” he admits. 
“We don’t have to,” you assure him. 
Your understanding only makes him want to kiss you more. He leans in. His lips are gentle and tentative as they press against yours. His fingers dig into the couch cushion in anticipation of that moment when you pull back to look at him with disgust when you taste the curses on his breath. He gasps in a mixture of shock and relief when instead deepens the kiss. In the split moment of openness offered by his gasp, your tongue slides into his mouth. His hand moves from the couch cushion to cup your cheek, and he moans as he eagerly drinks up your kiss. The sweetness of your mouth provides a temporary relief. He finds himself chasing your lips when you pull away, a shy smile tugging at the curve of your cheeks. 
“Was that scary?” you ask. 
“Not at all,” he groans and kisses you again. 
You tangle your hands in his long black hair. When you reach the roots, you tug gently. He moans against your mouth, shoving his tongue between your teeth to seek out your tongue with his. 
The thought crosses his mind that you must taste this good everywhere. He has to find out. He nuzzles against your neck and his tongue darts across your skin. His large hands eagerly knead at your hips. 
“S-suguru,” you whimper. 
He pulls back, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed hesitant at first.” 
He pulls you closer by your hips, “I know, I’m sorry. I want to continue if you do.” 
You smile, “Yeah, I want to.” 
“Alright,” he blushes. He stands up and offers his hand for you. Then, he leads you to his room. He keeps it quite neat and minimalistic in his space. 
He closes the door before grabbing you again. His hands move over the soft material of your dress before carefully lifting it over your head. He takes a moment to admire your figure standing before him draped only on your bra and panties. His admiration is disrupted by the feeling of you tugging at his shirt. He smirks and lifts his arms. You have to stand on your tiptoes to lift the shirt off completely, then it joins the pile with your dress. 
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers before seizing your lips again. His hands move over your body in a greedy exploration before finding your bra clasp. He opens it with ease and his fingers are deft to guide the straps down your arms. 
“Am I going too fast?” he asks. 
“No, it’s good,” you kiss him sweetly. 
He carefully lays you down on the bed, his broad form hovering over you. You notice the scars littering his body, but he doesn’t give you much of a chance to look further before he lowers himself to your chest. His breath is warm on your skin, heated up further by the open-mouthed kisses left along the swell of your breasts. He feels your hands in his hair, tugging him towards your sensitive spots. He relinquishes his curious exploration in favor of learning which spots drive you crazy. 
“You’re perfect,” he whispers against your stomach. His teeth scrape against your abdomen before he spreads your thighs. Your panties cling to your wet folds. He pulls the flimsy garment off before kissing down your thigh. 
“You don’t have to,” you whisper, suddenly seeming so shy. 
“What?” he looks up at you. He furrows his brows when he realizes what you mean. “I want to, baby.” 
Want is a rather weak word. He needs to taste you. 
“Are you sure?” 
He kisses your mound, “I’m certain.” 
You nod shyly, and he is all too eager to bury his face between your thighs. His tongue laps at your slit, hungry grunts falling from him as he relishes the taste of your arousal. He doesn’t taste curses. He doesn’t taste anything but the musky sweetness of your cunt on his tongue. 
The pleasure rolls through your core in intense waves with every smooth lick and suckle. You tremble in an attempt to keep still as he teases out more and more sensations. His strong hands keep your thighs spread wide so he can fully focus his attention on the feast laid out before him. He stays buried between your thighs until he notices the tell-tale signs of you being close. Your tense thighs and needy whines tell him all he needs to know. He pulls away from your cunt just as you’re about to cum. 
“Fuck, look what you’ve done,” he groans as he sits up on his knees and cups the prominent bulge at the front of his pants. “You still wanna keep going?” 
“Yes,” you whine. 
He pushes his pants down past his ass before slotting himself between your legs. He reaches down to stroke his cock a few times, then drags the tip between your soaked folds. The head prods at your hole, and he begins pushing in carefully. He watches your face contort with pleasure as he fills you. Once he’s bottomed out, he brings himself lower so your chests are pressed together. You can almost feel his heart racing against your chest. 
“You feel so good,” he kisses your forehead and nose. 
His hips begin to rock at a slow, sensual pace. Your nails dig into his back as you lock your legs around his waist, moaning at the pace he’s keeping. Your kisses are sloppy, more tongue than lips. Your moans pass between your mouths like a breath. 
The lingering feeling of your earlier orgasm he’d deprived you off makes the perfect foundation for what’s to come. Already you can feel it, twisting in your core. His cock hits the sweet spot inside you with precision. 
“Suguru, I’m close,” you moan. 
“Good, baby. Cum on my cock.” 
With a few more deep thrusts, you’re crying out his name in unbridled pleasure. The way your walls clench around him as you cum is nearly enough to drive him over the edge. 
“Can I cum inside you, baby?” he asks, his voice husky. Without much thought you nod eagerly. 
He braces one hand against the pillow by your head, squeezing the material as he starts chasing his high. His pace is sloppier and quicker now. He bites his lip so hard it almost draws blood, then at the moment of climax his mouth parts in a silent cry. His cock throbs as he releases inside you. 
As you both come down, he nuzzles against you. You’re both panting to catch your breath. You caress his back until he lifts himself up again. He carefully pulls out of you and lays next to you on the bed. 
“Stay with me,” he murmurs as he gathers you up in his arms. 
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mistyresolve · 2 years
Text
| Hostage - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
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Word count - 1.9K
Summary - When y/n is taken hostage because she is their combat analyst and knows a significant amount of information in regards to the 141, Ghost goes ballistic. Driven by fear and anger he locates you and is able to rescue you but the fear lingers and he struggles to wrestle his feelings back down.  
Warnings/Tags - Violence and blood, allusions to a brief panic attack  
A/N - I’m thinking of doing an epilogue to this but I’m really on the fence  
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Ghost feared very little. Knew that very little could actually kill him, and even fewer people could do the same. He knew he wasn’t invincible, and someday his luck would run out. Someday his heart would stop, and his blood would run cold. He couldn’t run from the inevitable; thus, he welcomed death with open arms like one would an old friend. He didn’t have a death wish though. He was merely passive towards it. Sometimes he liked the thrill a brush with death gave him. It reminded him he was alive, that his heart did indeed beat like everyone else’s. 
When it came to you, it was an entirely different story. The very idea of you being hurt, and dying, scared the shit out of him. The thought of you leaving him behind plagued him. Even in his sleep, nightmares of you taking your last breaths in his arms would force him from sleep. He’d spend the rest of the night watching you sleep, watching your chest rise and fall, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. He feared for the day he wasn’t able to protect you. 
A day like today. 
“Ghost,” Price spoke slowly and low like he was talking to a wide animal. Which wasn’t that far off, “We’ll get them back, we just need more information. We can’t run in there blind and deaf.” 
Price might as well have been talking to a brick wall because all Ghost could hear was ringing. An incessant, grating sound that shrouded him from all sense and reason. He remained utterly silent, seeth in his own wrath. The wrath he was sure to bring down on everyone and anyone who stood in his way. The 141 was well aware of this and stood aside as Ghost stalked to the door, his shoulders rolled and taut ready for a fight. He had turned so wholly maniacal that even Soap was disturbed by the look in his eye and backed down. Ghost went AWOL, but the 141 provided as much support as they could. They were able to give him updates and new information over the radio, but they were never able to catch up with his unrelenting pace. Instead, they only stumbled over his messes. Their own anxiety and unease about the meaning behind it all grew. It was as if humanity abandoned him as he tracked—No. As he hunted down the men who took you, smelling their blood in the air and following the scent. Ghost spared no one. If someone wasn't giving him the information he’d slay them and move to the next. If the next person wasn’t giving him information fast enough they were executed.   
When he finally located you, you were in a warehouse, he communicated back into the radio for the first time to tell the rest of the 141. 
The captors had yet to start drawing blood, but only because they were trying a psychological approach. It had already been three hours. Three very long hours. You were a combat analyst, you weren’t a trained soldier like the 141. And you sure as hell wasn’t prepared for something like this. He didn’t let himself think too hard about the possibilities. He didn’t let himself think about the probability of finding you dead inside the warehouse. You had crucial information on the 141 that they wanted, and he could only hope that information was keeping you alive. 
He slaughtered his way into the building, leaving nothing but carnage behind him. When he got visuals on you, alive, he nearly collapsed. Not completely unharmed though.
You were soaked from waterboarding. They had used ice-cold water, and somehow it was colder still. The big industrial fans hanging from the roof blew cool air, but it was only amplified tenfold for you. He could hear your shivering, see how your lips had turned a scary shade of blue. Your hair stuck to your face in wet clumps. Your hands were bound to a chair, your fingers curling into your palms in search of any warmth. Your eyes burned holes into whoever stood in front of you.     
“Where. Are. The 141. Hiding?” Your captor asked again, the same question he’s been asking from the very beginning. He forced your head back, getting ready to place the towel. He hadn’t gotten anything out of you yet, but he could tell you were breaking. 
You bit out a smile, although it was more of an act of you baring your teeth at him, “Go to hell,” Your teeth chattered, despite your best efforts. Before the captor could place to sopping towel back over your face he emerges. 
It’s almost as if Ghost was made from the shadows themselves with the way he seems to materialize out of them. The way they clung to him. He couldn’t remember losing his handgun, but at some point, he’d resorted to knives. 
You knew he wasn’t here for your blood but alarms and warnings went off in your very bones. They screamed, Danger! Danger!       
Ghost was every bit his reputation at this moment. His eyes were wide and unseeing. His movements were swift and snappy like elastics were snapping in his limbs. He’d taken his time when he dragged the blade across the man's throat, wanting to keep him alive to feel every ounce of agony at his life quite literally drained from him. 
The speed at which he moved in front of you almost made you think him inhuman. He uncuffed you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you hard enough that you thought he was going to break bones. He was panting, almost unable to catch his breath. You could almost smell his fear; that and the blood that was surely hiding among the black dye of his clothes.  
You repeatedly murmured, “I’m okay. I’m okay,”  into his shoulder. Not sure if you were comforting him, or yourself. Both, you very quickly realized. As whatever came over him in those few hours of your life in danger, ebbed from his veins, he finally, finally returned to his body. Before it had felt like he was watching himself from outside his body, watching himself from someone else perceptive. Someone may have thought he wasn’t a mundane soldier, but a vessel for whatever god wished to experience true unchecked rage. 
But he was human.
He felt true terror today, and his body was starting to feel the effects of it. He kept repeating, “I’m sorry,” like they were the only words he could remember. His body began to tremble uncontrollably, and his skin felt too tight and itchy. You let him hold you, let him feel your heartbeat against his.   
The 141 arrived with a medic. Simon immediately stepped aside, allowing the professional to assess you. She’d immediately announced hypothermia and called for a medevac. She’d wrapped a reflective blanket around your shoulders and removed her own jacket and put it on top.  
Once Simon was completely and utterly sure you were in good hands, he’d stumbled to the wall, choosing a spot where he was obscured from your view. Everyone’s view. He’d fallen to his knees then, his strength leaving him. They cracked against the concrete, but he welcomed the sharp pain. He’d lifted his mask and thrown up. 
It had been a long, long while since he’d had a reaction like this. Where panic and hysteria claimed him. Guilt and self-loathing suffocated him. Filled his chest, and bubbled up into his throat.  
He let this happen. He wasn’t careful enough. He got too comfortable. 
And this was the result. 
It was his fault. 
His fault. His fault. His fault.   
He clenched his jaw, fighting back hot tears. He leaned his back against the wall, rested his arms on his knees, and let his head hang between his legs. If circumstances were different he would have crawled into the safety of your arms and begged you to make this feeling stop. To make it go away. It was a selfish thought, he knew that. Knew that you were one who needed comfort and reassurance right now. Knew that you needed him just as much, but he didn’t want you to see this. For if you looked into his eyes, you’d be faced with the reality that he truly had had no idea what to do. He came looking with no plan and hardly any direction. He’d once again gotten lucky by following breadcrumbs and whispers to find you.  
He almost lost you.  
You were alive, yes, but what if he’d come an hour later? A minute?  
The 141 knew where he was. Had watched him as he melted back into the shadows, but respected Simon’s silent request for solitary. They understood that he needed to wade through these emotions on his own and that no matter what they said or did wasn’t going to fix it. 
When he heard the familiar sound of a chopper overhead he forced himself to collect himself. Allowing himself 10 more seconds before remasking, and finding you. The medic and Price were escorting you to the front doors. 
“Simon,” Soap appeared at his side, Ghost jerked his attention to him, “There is nothing you could have done differently.” 
He didn’t say anything, but his silence was enough for Soap to understand that he disagreed. With that, he made his way over to you taking Price’s place at your side. 
You were still shaking but you held your head high with your shoulders squared. Simon could have cried at the sight. To see you were defiant in the face of it all was enough to ease the tiniest bit of worry from his shoulders. He knew you weren’t totally unaffected and it was going to take you years to repair the damages, but here you were walking out of this building on your own two feet. 
The medic tried to tell him he couldn’t come with but he downright refused to leave you, “Try and tell me no.”, and she must have known immediately she wasn’t going to win because she let him in anyway. 
He held your hand in his the entire flight to the nearest hospital, eyes darting about. He stayed at your side the entire time you were in the hospital too. He slept in the chair beside your bed, or at least pretended to until you drifted off into sleep, but was wide awake and alert for the rest of the night. Only leaving when Soap came for a visit the next day with clothes for him, telling him he’d take the next shift. Simon changed and came right back to the room. Only this time when he sat in the chair with the hood of his sweater pulled over his head, did he sleep. Finding some solace in knowing Soap was here too.  
Tomorrow he was going to have a meeting with Price about his insubordination. And about the ramage he went on. Tomorrow he was going to have to tell Price about how he’d completely lost himself, didn’t even remember half of it.   
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Epilogue
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A/N - Price isn’t mad, he’s worried 
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guaxinimraccoon · 5 months
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Agora, a pergunta q nn quer calar: por que o Toby roubou o livro?
MEU DEUS eu achei que já tinha dito isso em algum lugar, mas dei uma procurada aqui e nada de achar o link disso pq eu NUNCA EXPLIQUEI DJKSKJDSKJDS MALZ bora lá
My bud here asked a very important question: why Tobias stole a very sacred and important book?
The short answer is: because Tobias has a curse and he wanted to find a cure.
OMG HOW- calm down, first things first.
As I said before, when Alex and Elisa started to take their relationship more seriously, Alex would hang out in the Colony using a shrinking potion and preteding to be an imp. He was well accepted as one by Elisa's fellow imps and fairies and they never had many problems with his disguise.
But there was this one, powerful, envy fairy who took notice that something about Alex was... off.
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She started to do her own investigations and ended up finding the truth out: Alex was no imp, but a human in disguise. Although, to her, this was actually very good news.
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Why? Because this fairy - Irwalia - comes from a family that has been preaching an ancient propecy over a century now. Said prophecy omens that, one day, a being with the strongest of souls - a fairy soul - and the strongest of bodies - a human body - would be born to free the Colony from it's decades of war.
There are a lot of fairy families that preach this prophecy till this day, but all of them are taken as delusionals by most of the Colony's inhabitants. It's impossible to have a being that has a different soul from it's body, it just can't happen. But they hold onto their beliefs firmly regardless.
When Irwalia learned the truth about Alex, she couldn't help but be ecstatic: she had finally found a human inside the Colony's walls. And, if SHE was the one who discovered him first, then she must be the one meant to give birth to this prophetic child… right?
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In a vengeful and spiteful spirit, Irwalia decided to not report Alex to the Colony's authorities, but instead take her anger out on what the human and his imp wife treasured the most: their only child.
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Alex and Elisa didn't took long to find Toby, afterall she wanted to take her revenge in front of them...
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Irwalia cursed Toby with something that not only breaked Alex's heart, but made the child defenseless if he ever encountered a human: if in close proximity to a human, Toby is completely unable to do any kind of magic.
This may not sound like a big deal, but imps, especially imp borrowers, take great advantage from their magic abilities to protect themselves from the sight of humans and their malicious intents. And, of course, Toby would never be able to obtain his full magic potential (which he has a lot of) around his own father.
Aside from all that, his hair is now bright blue, a side effect of the curse that makes it difficult for him to hide from humans and dangerous animals.
Toby grew up not being allowed to leave the Colony EVER because of his curse. So when he became an adult, after getting involved in a lot of trouble inside the Colony, being the little thief and vagabond that he is, he thought-
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Unfortunately, he never had the chance to actually seek a cure for his curse in the book because he was discovered for his theft before that, yeah, it was all kind of pointless, he truly sucks at hiding.
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Huh, I also wonder why it worked...
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hbyrde36 · 6 months
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Chapter 1: Under My Skin
Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang
Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang
Beta'd by @penny00dreadful
Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link
Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that. 
It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.
But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. 
Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever. 
And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.
Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.
It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content. 
The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life. 
Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal. 
Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.
It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.
“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.” 
“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”
“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.
“Mine had to cancel.”
Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”
“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.
“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”
“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.
“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting. 
Not that he was one to pout. 
“I’m not!”
“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”
“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh. 
He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him. 
“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.
She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”
“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.
“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged. 
About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day. 
Except, it couldn't be.
It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go. 
It was unthinkable.
“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.
“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.
The other man nodded.
Shit, okay.
So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy. 
Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go. 
Get it together, Munson!
The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.
Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–
“Eddie?”
Fuck. 
Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?
“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.” 
What the fuck was wrong with him today?!
“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”
Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job! 
“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”
Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.
Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.
“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.
That was… interesting. 
Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?
Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.
“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.
He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry. 
It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 
At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was… 
It was…
Jesus Christ.
It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory. 
The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley. 
Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force. 
He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.
He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was. 
It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love. 
Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.  
“It’s great.” Steve said. 
“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”
Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right. 
It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed. 
While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.
“Ready to get started?”
Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”
His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry. 
With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work. 
They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm. 
Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.
He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him. 
He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 
That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant. 
Fuck.
Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower. 
He shouldn’t. 
It wasn’t right.
The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely. 
But Eddie was a weak, weak man.
He looked. 
Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it. 
Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.
Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat. 
Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.
“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.
Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes. 
“For?”
Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed. 
“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”
Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.
Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.
“Do you need to take a break?” 
“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”
He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things. 
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.
“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”
Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”
“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.
“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”
“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.” 
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”
“Oh?”
“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”
“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”
Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi  flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.
“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”
A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke. 
“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.
“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me.  Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.” 
“And?”
Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”
Steve hummed in understanding.
“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”
“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.
Good boy.
Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”
“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.
“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”
“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.
“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”
Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. 
Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.
As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.
“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”
“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.” 
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.
Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on. 
“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.
Eddie’s mouth went dry. 
Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?
“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.
“Why not?”
“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.
The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.
For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end. 
He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.
It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  
At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal. 
Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times. 
“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.
Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps. 
“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”
Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation. 
“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?” 
Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call. 
“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”
Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.
“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?” 
Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?
“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”
“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”
“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”
“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”
“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”
With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for. 
“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”
“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.” 
“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”
“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?” 
Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”
“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”
“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”
It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.
“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”
Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”
Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?
Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long. 
“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.
“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”
“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”
“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”
Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–
“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”
“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”
“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”
“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”
The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.
“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”
“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”
“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”
Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.
“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.
“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
Eddie froze. 
The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.
A robin.
For, Robin.
How could he have been so stupid! 
Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one. 
Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.
Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.
“Everything alright?” Steve asked.
The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat. 
“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.
That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him? 
Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on. 
Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.
He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.
Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.
After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.  
“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”
Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”
Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.
Chapter 2
All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜
152 notes · View notes
atinycafe · 1 year
Note
thinking about the members noticing their s/o has to hold something to fall asleep (like a billow or something) I have this habit and I wondered what they would think of it
I ALSO LOOOOOVE YOUR WORKS! YOU ARE AMAZING POOKIE ILY♡
ATZ & READER'S UNIQUE SLEEPING HABIT — headcanons
pairing: ateez x fem!reader genre: fluff, some light angst (hurt 2 comfort for joong and sanni's parts) wrd cnt: 3.4k author's note: that was such a cute ask, thank you for requesting it babe <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY I LOVE YOU TOO!! mixed it up with this ask. (ノ´ з `)ノ taglist: @hyukssunflower @cqndiedcherries masterlist
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  ○˳      hongjoong
hongjoong always comes home late, working tirelessly on producing, songwriting, and juggling many other tasks throughout his days and nights. so, you've taken it upon yourself to find comfort in a big teddy bear, craving the warmth of someone beside you to cuddle up with. this time though, you two had a massive fight, and he's gone all silent on you. no more arguing, he had decided. instead, he'd channel all that frustration into crafting some new beats, pouring his anger into his creations, so the cuddling with the bear just hits harder.
as he enters your private room, the first thing he does is check on you before even taking off his clothes or washing up. his eyes soften at the sight of you nestled with the large plushie, and his heart squeezes with guilt. you look so tiny and delicate in the vast bed, almost overshadowed by the bear's size. he tenderly runs his fingers from your wrist to your elbow, noticing your firm grip on the stuffed animal, and he closes his eyes, allowing his thoughts to roam freely as he scolds himself for being selfish and leaving you so lonely that you resorted to such measures to feel embraced.
"joong?"
your voice startles him from his thoughts, and hongjoong turns to you, gently hushing you, coaxing you back to sleep. "shh, baby, go back to sleep. let me just get out of these jeans, and i'll be right there, pretty girl."
you pay no attention to his words, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with one hand while the other tosses the bear out of the bed, pulling him closer by his suit vest. who wears a suit vest with jeans? probably your fashion-fanatic boyfriend, but you're too tired to imagine how uncomfortable that must be to lie down wearing it. you embrace him tightly, burying your face in his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne before drifting back to sleep, completely forgetting about how you guys were fighting just earlier in the day. regardless of how scratchy those designer jeans he's wearing are or how wrinkled his dress shirt might get tomorrow, nothing could make hongjoong budge away from you right now. he's getting all cozy, listening to your soft snores, and holding you tighter as he starts to doze off, but just before he actually falls asleep he whispers in the silent room.
"i'll get us a mattress in the studio so you can sleep in a same room where i'm there, i don't wanna ever leave you alone baby."
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  ○˳      seonghwa
when seonghwa sleeps, he becomes unnaturally warm, tossing and turning, pulling the sheets off his body only to tug them back afterwards. yep, he's like a living furnace—basically uncuddable. so, one day when you bring a big plushie (san's idea, by the way) to bed, seonghwa is perplexed. he doesn't say anything as he watches you place it next to you.
you turn to him, all smiles, and seonghwa can't help but reciprocate, smiling back down at you. you plant a soft peck on his lips, once, twice, and a third time because you just love him so much. then, you clap your hands twice, letting the automatic system turn off the lights for you. you fall asleep in seonghwa's arms just like usual, but as the night goes on, the heat radiating from his body makes you push him away. you grab your plushie instead and cuddle with it, moving as far away as you can from seonghwa. ah, finally, you can rest without feeling like you're trapped in a sauna.
"what… the.. fuck?" seonghwa groans, his speech slow and laced with sleep, waking up three hours later with no one in his arms. he props himself up on his elbows, looking around confusedly for your form. once his eyes adjust to the darkness, he finds you sleeping far away from him, cuddling with something that isn't him.
feeling betrayed, he grabs you by the waist, your back facing him, and he pulls you to be flush with him. you're awakened by the harsh motion, momentarily stunned before you start whining, trying to get away. but he just holds you closer, briefly letting go of your waist to grab the plushie and toss it behind him. impressive, considering the weight of that thing, but right now, the focus is on the issue at hand—his body temperature. "hwaa nooo, too hot."
"shut up you promised you'd stay through sickness and health, so just suffer with me." he croaks against your hair and you turn to him, a "boy what the hell are you talking about" look on your face.
"what promise? we're not even married?" you retort, your voice matching his, as you can barely make out the words from your dry throat.
"yet."
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  ○˳      yunho
"i'll just grab the popcorn real quick, alright? you can start the movie without me, princess, no worries."
you nod quietly, reaching for the remote on the table as he plants a sweet kiss on your head when you settle back on the sofa. you press play, and the new spiderman movie starts rolling, but you're too exhausted to fully engage. work has really drained you, and all you crave is some rest. so, you pick up the cylindrical pillow beside you and hug it close.
by the time yunho returns with the snacks, you've already drifted off, and miles morales is on the screen, facing his mom's wrath. yunho doesn't notice right away, plopping down beside you and fixating his gaze on the tv. he laughs at a funny scene, but when he doesn't hear your laughter, he glances at you curiously from under his bangs. his eyes soften as he witnesses your adorable cuddling with the pillow. he can't help but be mesmerized, allowing the movie to play in the background while he admires every little detail of your face.
as he notices a droplet of spit forming on your parted lips, he can't help but chuckle, totally captivated by everything about you. gently, he wipes it away with his thumb and then lowers the volume using the remote. he softly takes the pillow from your arms and pulls you closer to him. he tries to hide his face with his hand as you snugly wrap your arms around his waist, finding comfort in his embrace. if mingi saw how completely giddy sleepy you can make him, he'd surely tease him endlessly.
"my princess' so cute, isn't she hmm?" he murmurs in the silence, running his fingers through the back of your neck. as you snuggle closer, he embraces you tightly, planting gentle kisses on your hair, causing you to twitch awake.
"huh? did the movie end? shit, sorry, i dozed off," you mumble groggily against his chest, trying to shift position. he places a hand over your eyes, momentarily blocking your vision.
"shh, go back to sleep, we'll watch it tomorrow," yunho chuckles, coaxing you to return to slumber on his chest. you comply happily, sneakily sliding your hands under his shirt to softly trace your nails on his skin.
"'ight, just promise not to watch it without me," you say playfully.
"deal, but only if you promise not to cuddle a pillow instead of me," he retorts with a teasing grin, "baby?"
"princess? do you promise?"
"zzz"
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  ○˳      yeosang
presently, you're watching yeosang flex his biceps in the mirror. he looks handsome, and his biceps have definitely gotten bigger. but you're feeling tired and all you really want is to cuddle with him. he's such a boy, ugh.
you pout and turn on the bed, making sure to steal his pillow to cuddle with. after ogling his body for a while, he takes off his tank top to flex his stomach and then goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. once he's done with his routine, he returns to bed, only to notice his missing pillow.
he's about to fuss and whine, but when he sees you cuddling it, looking so cute, he can't help but stop. he lets his head fall back, gazing at the ceiling as he contemplates his options. should he steal back his pillow or just let you have it, because you look so comfy? he decides on the latter.
yeosang slips into bed, resting his cheek on his arm, elbow against the mattress, and turns toward you. your eyebrows are scrunched as if you're upset it's not him you're cuddling. he presses his thumb gently at the middle of your eyebrows, soothing the skin until your expression becomes more neutral. his fingers don't leave your face, though. they trail over, outlining your eyebrows, then gently feeling your eyelashes with his fingertips, before moving over the slope of your nose and settling on your puffy lips. he lightly pinches the flesh of your bottom lip between his fingers, tugging at it ever so softly. gosh, you're cute. and that habit of yours, hugging things when you sleep, just makes him melt even more for you. his heartbeat quickens the more he thinks about it. it's just so adorable!! now his eyebrows meet because he has to make do with sleeping without a pillow, all because you're so cute. sure, he could get up and find another pillow somewhere in the apartment, but he just can't seem to take his eyes off you, as if you'd vanish the moment he steps out of the room.
"gosh it's disgusting how much i love you."
the next morning, you wake up to the sight of yeosang sleeping next to you, with his head propped up on the mattress. you can't help but smile at the sight and decide to wake him up with small kisses to his lips.
"hey sleepy head."
"i think i have a cramp in my neck."
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  ○˳      san
"baby i'm sorr—"
you slam the door of your bedroom in his face, seething with anger. you're so furious that you could wreck the entire room right now. it's unbelievable that his ex showed up at the party he attended. fine, he only responded out of politeness when she talked to him, but it hurts you. what really stings is that wooyoung had to tell you about it before he did. you don't want to think about being understanding right now; you just need some time alone.
you make a beeline for the bed, falling onto it and getting tangled in the sheets. you silently kick the air like a child who's been denied a playdate. you know you're being childish, but it's too late to call him back. he's probably already on the couch, trying to sleep off the night. you'll talk about it in the morning like you always do, but for now, you'll settle for cuddling with one of his many plushies. grabbing the bigger one, you press your face against it and quickly doze off, exhausted from the fight.
not even two hours later, san sneaks back into the room. he makes sure you're asleep before taking another step. he just wanted to grab his phone from the nightstand, bored out of his mind and unable to sleep without you in his arms.
standing in front of the bed, he hesitates. you're there, cuddling with a bigger version of the shiber plushie you got him for his birthday, and he can't help but pout because he wants to be the one in your arms. maybe he could just slide in beside you—no, he shouldn't. but what if he lays down next to you without touching you—no, he shouldn't. what if he takes daddy shiber's place, then wakes up earlier to slip back onto the couch—no, he shouldn't. but you just look so adorable holding that plushie; it should be him!! lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice you opening your eyes, having woken up the moment he entered the room. you really need to oil that door; it creaks so loudly.
"sanni," you whisper, and he lets out a small scream, so startled that he drops his phone. he cusses and quickly grabs it, apologizing and stuttering as he backs away. but he stops when you call his name again.
"yes?" his voice is small, and you sigh, rubbing your face. finally, you push the plushie away. "come here."
he practically jumps into the bed, pulling you close and hugging you tightly. "baby, i'm sorry. i didn't tell you because it honestly slipped my mind. she's so unimportant; i didn't even realize. i completely forgot about her—"
"san, not now. let's talk about it tomorrow morning. just hug me, please."
"yes ma'am."
"..."
"love you."
"... love you too."
"(⌒ᵕ⌒)"
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  ○˳      mingi
mingi is playing basketball with yunho in your backyard when you finally arrive home from work. you slip off your heels, keeping your eyes fixed on your boyfriend's agile movements through the sliding glass doors of the living room, which offer a clear view of the action in the garden. a soft smile forms on your lips as you watch him playfully push yunho aside, causing the taller boy to burst into laughter.
you push open the sliding doors and wave at the boys as they notice you. mingi playfully throws you a flying kiss, and you can't help but chuckle at his antics. taking a seat on one of the comfy couches you and mingi placed on the open veranda, you settle in to enjoy the scene.
"this shot's for you, babe!" mingi exclaims, dramatically pointing at you as he readies himself to shoot a 3-pointer. he releases the ball into the air but embarrassingly misses, leading to more laughter from yunho, who goes to retrieve the ball from the grass. mingi scratches the back of his head awkwardly and jogs over to you. "you didn't see anything."
you close your eyes, playing along, and feel a soft kiss on your cheek, followed by a sweet "welcome home, tiny" that warms your heart. mingi plants another kiss on your nose before returning to his match with yunho. the rhythmic sound of the bouncing ball lulls you into a peaceful sleep, and you instinctively grab a pillow to support your chin.
mingi doesn't notice that you've fallen asleep until he finishes his game. he and yunho approach your sleeping form, and both of them quiet down. mingi's breath catches in his throat at the sight – you look so adorable!! he can't help but let his thoughts run wild about how cute his princess is until yunho interrupts.
"bro, your girl's cute," yunho remarks, and mingi immediately turns to him, pushing him and throwing a couple of curses his way.
"get your own, you're not allowed to look!" mingi whines, using his body to shield you from yunho's view, pointing towards the living room to shoo him away. yunho chuckles but goes inside, knowing his own house is just down the street.
with yunho gone, mingi turns back to your sleeping form, crossing his arms in front of him as he shakes his head from side to side. "what am i gonna do with you, tiny? you can't let these guys see you like that."
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  ○˳      wooyoung
you watch wooyoung's graceful movements in the long mirror as he dances to a song from his album. a soft smile plays on your lips as you observe his focused expression, a sharp contrast to your naturally goofy boyfriend. the bass of the music reverberates through the floor, and for a moment, you close your eyes, allowing the sound to lull you into a sense of calm, almost drifting to sleep.
but your position on the floor isn't the most comfortable, sitting cross-legged. your eyes scan the room until you spot wooyoung's bag. with a mischievous smirk, you grab it and place it between your face and your thighs, hugging it to support your nap. soon, you doze off with a contented smile on your face.
wooyoung notices right away. his eyes are always on you just as much as yours are on him, and he stops dancing for a moment to disconnect his phone from the bluetooth stereo and switches to his airpods so as not to disturb your rest. he's eager to finish practice, knowing that the sooner he does, the sooner he can take you home.
after an hour of dancing, he's left with only the sound of his own heavy breathing. he puts the earphones back in his pocket and walks over to you, trying not to wake you up. he takes a seat beside you, grabbing a water bottle that was nearby.
as he sips from the bottle, his eyes remain fixated on your form. he just stares at you, wanting to memorize every detail, wishing he could imprint your image at the back of his eyelids. you're smiling in your sleep, and he bites his bottom lip, his gaze drifting to how you're hugging his bag. you're cute, you're so pretty, almost ethereal, and he feels like he's floating on a cloud. he considers himself the luckiest man alive. it's as if you sense his stare even in your sleep, and you wake up slowly, your eyelids fluttering open as you look around in confusion. the nap was so good that you momentarily forgot where you were.
when your eyes meet wooyoung's, his expression gives nothing away, although his mind is filled with enamored thoughts of you. you instinctively shrink in on yourself, hugging the bag tighter.
"… what?" you ask softly, feeling perplexed by the way he was looking at you.
he doesn't say anything; instead, he bends down and gives you a long kiss on the lips, catching you off guard. "woo, wha— what was that for?" you mumble.
"what was what for? since when do i need a reason to kiss you?" wooyoung replies, the affection in his words hidden behind a playful scoff.
"you don't, just don't look at me like a psychopath before you do it…"
"okay, i won't look at you anymore."
"wait, no, i was joking. look at me!!"
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  ○˳      jongho
you and jongho are cuddling together on the couch, him engrossed in a video game while you lazily watch the screen. sleep starts to tug at you, so you reach for the nearby pillow to get more comfortable.
the moment jongho sees you grabbing the pillow, he pulls the mic of his headphones up, briefly muting himself. "nah, drop that right now."
"jjong, what are you talking about?" you look up at him, surprised and confused, dropping a disbelieving scoff. he glances quickly at the screen, shooting a random guy in the game, and then focuses back on you.
"drop the pillow. you're not hugging that to sleep," he says, noticing your small habit and not liking it one bit. he scowls while trying to grab the pillow with one hand, still holding the controller with the other. however, you playfully pull back, laughing at his quirky antics.
"not until you tell me why," you laugh even harder, seeing him struggling to divide his attention between you and the game. but he only pouts, not wanting to reveal his true feelings. you snicker, now leaning against the armrest, and you playfully tap him with your feet, giggling when he sends you a death glare. "come on, tell meee."
"why would you hug a pillow to sleep when i'm right here?" he finally groans, pulling at his bangs to cover his face in embarrassment.
"no way, choi jongho, are you being serious right now?" you giggle even harder into the pillow, kicking your feet excitedly. the maknae is finally acting like a maknae, and you can't help but adore it. he doesn't say anything, rolling his eyes, but the slight blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears betrays him. he pulls the mic back down, hushing you with his finger, as if the fact that his mic is on can stop you from laughing at him. you toss the pillow to the floor and snuggle into his arms, making sure not to obstruct his view of the tv.
you mouth the words "i love you" before pulling him into a hug. jongho can't help but smile, momentarily forgetting that his mic is still on as he cheekily asks, "get your ass up here and give me a kiss."
a barrage of screams can be heard through the headset, so loud that even you can hear them.
"what the fuck jongho."
"bro what."
"hold on pause."
"aye man, what the fuck are you talking about."
"come here, teddy bear, i'll kiss you," jongho recoils at wooyoung's attempt at a fake high-pitched voice, trying to sound cute, but it only results in even more exaggerated disgusted screams from his the boys in the call.
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thebearer · 1 year
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stop, thinking of teddys first holidays. she’s still a little new to being earthside. like her first halloween you dress her up in an animal onesie or something, and she’s barely old enough to stay awake for longer than an hour for thanksgiving so everyone’s cooing over how blue her eyes are and how much heartburn you had because of how dark and curly her hair is. and for christmas you get to start your new family traditions, and how carms like “this is more for mama, then you” and she is just sucking on her paci looking at the new lights on the tree
oh i have to elaborate on these i'm sorry this is so cute ahhhhh!!! having an idea that you make a little calendar of teddy or maybe document each milestone with a cutesy type photo shoot??? i think carmen would sob.
thinking about teddy's first halloween. you ordered a little bear costume for her to surprise carmen and it's WAYYYYY too big lol. she ends up in a little pumpkin onesie instead, but carmen thinks the costume is adorable. how big she is in it. then next year, she fits in it and he's stupidly emotional. like beyond emo about it. she can sorta toddle and walk and babble and it's still a little big, but by her third halloween she fits in it. it became a running joke that you'd keep trying until she fit. you'd send a picture every year to your friends and family saying something like "closer this time! maybe next year!"
when it does finally fit, you snap a picture and put it on your instagram.
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finally fits. happy halloween from the berzatto's
her first thanksgiving, she's about three months pushing four (i hc she's an august leo baby... she gives leo energy and you know she does). you had so much heartburn. next to carmy's pepto was your tums bc it was so bad. the old wives tale lived up bc she came out with a full head of hair. a true berzatto trait, you decided.
carmen's favorite holiday was thanksgiving. especially with you and his "chosen family" he likes being able to cook and it's not chaos like his usual family. he holds teddy while you eat, you'll spoon him bite fulls of his own meal but he's content being showered with compliments about how good the food is. boosts his ego.
you give teddy a little bit of gravy, off your pinky, everyone at the table laughing when she smacked her lips, eyes opening at the taste. carmen beamed. he'd never been so happy.
carmen and richie are taking a smoke break outside, so you take the chance to snap a photo. teddy all bundled up in a bear onesie (a gift from tina ofc) and you lay her in a pile of leaves.
carmen feels his phone buzz, looking down to see you tagged him in a photo on instagram. he's grinning ear to fucking ear.
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first thanksgiving and first leaf pile. big day for teddy bear! thankful for my baby teddy and my baby daddy @/chefberzatto
by christmas, teddy is enamored with the lights. she loves watching the tree, just gawking at it and all it's shiny ornaments. carmen spends a good portion of his time holding her, bouncing her gently in his arms and showing her the many different sparkling trinkets on it.
carmen is doing his best to try and create new traditions, happy traditions that would let teddy grow up loving and looking forward to the holidays. not dreading them and wishing they'd be over soon like carmen grew up with. love and caring instead of chaos.
you'd taken teddy to see santa, which she'd sobbed the whole time about. carmen had to sit next to the mall worker, holding teddy so she'd be halfway calm, but even then she'd refused to smile- only giving a pitiful, pouting lip jut that had you melting and cooing at her.
carmen had insisted on making holiday cookies. gingerbread cookies (more for you and him than teddy) but he said it gave him time to perfect it by the time she could enjoy them. he'd make a batch, a homemade hot chocolate (your powdered and hot water made him gag) sitting down to watch the grinch with you and teddy. you in his arms, teddy cuddled to your chest in her little christmas footy pajamas.
carmen was at work the next day when marcus laughed, calling him over to see what you'd posted.
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gingerbread-ted thanks to @/chefberzatto (ps his were good but @/marcusbakes is much better lol)
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